


Restless Serenade

by LissaCat



Category: Alex Turner - Fandom, Arctic Monkeys, Miles Kane - Fandom, The Last Shadow Puppets
Genre: Alex and Miles being husbands, Anxiety, Broadway, Bromance, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, England (Country), Eventual Smut, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, London, Long-Distance Relationship, Los Angeles, M/M, New York City, Rock and Roll, Romance, Sleepless nights, Theatre, drunken sing a long, long chapters, meet cute
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-01
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-02-10 16:27:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 22,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18664075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LissaCat/pseuds/LissaCat
Summary: So it’s not a one shot anymore, because Miles won’t leave me alone. This ones still for you King Kane, ‘cause you’re boss xxxChildren, let me take you on a journey of true love, and happiness abound. This is the story of how Stella met Miles. A chronicle of their ups and downs, their failures and success. All aboard the Kane Train kids.





	1. Part 1

It was really late. So late it was early. The moon shone high in the sky, and it lit the whole of the living room. 

  
I had left Mi in our cozy bed, my socks abandoned beneath the twisted sheets. Walking my way to the kitchen, my feet were chilly against the usually warm wood. I deeply regretted being a restless sleeper. It usually resulted in sockless treks to the bathroom, among other things.  
  
Tonight was just a bad night. Too much buzzing around in my brain. Every time I closed my eyes, I would worry, about everything and nothing at all. Miles was leaving to Los Angeles to record a new album in a weeks time. Normally I’d go with him, since my mother still lives in town, but not this time. This time I was on a mission of my own too. Next week I’d be starting rehearsal for an off Broadway show. My first. I was nervous, but I’d been on stage reciting lines since I was ten. The stage was my home away from home. I could do this. But ever since Miles has come into my life, theatre isn’t the first priority anymore. It’s us.  
  
Miles and I met in the worst meet cute situation imaginable. We were both plastered in a bar in New York. I was auditioning day and night, and I wanted to let loose. I lost my friends half way through my drunken binge, and met the most handsome man at the jukebox.

  
  
_“Hi, I’m Alex.”_ He’d said.

  
  
Me, being drunker than a pirate said, “ _Hi Alex, do you know where the restroom is?”_ _  
_

  
He’d laughed harder than he’d probably meant to, picking out a Smiths song to play. He was probably drunker than he lead on as well, seeing as he’d led me to the men’s restroom.

  
And that’s where Mi and I met. With his fly down, holding a cocktail in both hands.

  
_“Come to join me lovely?”_ He had giggled, holding out one of his glasses to me. It was blue, and looked dangerous. So I reached out my hand.

  
  
_“Don’t mind if I do.”_

  
  
He’d waited for me at the door, making sure no one else barged into the men’s while I relieved myself, giggling along to the music in the air as I sat.

  
  
When I’d made it out, drink in hand and higher than a kite, he asked me to dance.

  
  
_“As long as my drink wasn’t spiked, then yes.”_

  
  
_“Smart of ya, but no. Was actually for me mate Alex...wherever he’s gone to.”_

  
_“Smaller boy, slicked back hair, blue suit?”_ I said

 

  
_“That’s the one! Have you seen the little lad?”_

  
  
_“He’s the one who led me to the men’s. And he’s currently standing on that pool table.”_

  
  
Miles whipped around, looking to Alex, who was singing along to the song playing over the crowd.

  
  
_“My sweet, soft lad...g’wed....”_ he mumbled to himself.

  
  
We’d soon learn how important this moment really was.

  
_“I’m an alligator! I’m a mama papa comin’ for you!”_ Alex shouted.

  
  
For being smashed he had a wonderful voice I’d thought.

  
_“I’m the space invader!”_ Miles sang back to him.

  
I couldn’t hold it in after that.

  
_“I’ll be a rock ‘n’ roll bitch, for yoouuu!”_

  
  
They both looked to me then, eyes wide and smiling.

  
  
Miles had laughed, and I remember the way his face crinkled when he did. He’d grabbed my shoulders and spun me around once, twice. My heart was lost to him after that.  
  
The three of us led the bar in a sing along of Moonage Daydream that night. Alex still on the pool table, serenading anyone who came close, and Miles and I dramatically posed beneath him, holding each other, swaying.  
  
I’d looked into his eyes that night, beneath the swinging lamps and stares of the onlookers, and knew this man was a dream. An adventure. A happy surprise, buried under the chaos of my life.    
  
That was a year ago now. I’d moved into Miles’s apartment in London a while back. We were out to breakfast in NoHo, a small outdoor cafe by my apartment where Miles loved the macchiatos. He once asked to meet the barista, and proceeded to kiss both her cheeks, bowing his head to her hands.  
  
He’d casually left a spare key in the pocket of my purse, one he knew I looked in everyday.

  
  
“What’s this? I’d said, one hand held out with the key, the other pushing through my long hair.

  
“Your invitation to the motherland babeh!”

  
I’d protested and whined, even though I knew I wanted to go. I just didn’t want to leave New York. It had brought me so much experience, jobs, leaving was hard. But Mi was bigger than all of this, and I wanted to be with him always. My glowing sunshine boy.  
  
That’s why this was hard. Thinking about leaving Mi for an extended amount of time made me anxious. I was independent enough- I didn’t need him to be myself. But the insecurities that crept up on me in the night were like vicious animals, tearing apart my sanity, making it hard to rationalize.  
  
I realized I was sweating, my body aching in an anxious fit.  
  
I guessed the balcony was my best bet, it’s small plush loveseat was my favorite place to read, to think, to people watch. But now it afforded me a place where I wouldn’t wake Miles. I didn’t want him to worry.  
  
I tried to quietly turn the knob on the glass paned door, but the blinds rattled a little. I quickly pressed a hand to them, as I slipped out and closed the door behind me. I looked out at the near dawn. It was beautiful out here at night, looking over Islington. It was one of the most magical places I’ve been; twinkling lights in the distance, colorful storefronts, trendy cafes that Miles loved, and an outdoor market that I visited more often than the Tesco down the way. North London was posh in itself, but this place had small town charm around every corner. I sat on the purple fuzzy throw we kept out here, and wrapped myself in it, knees pressed to my chin.  
  
I wasn’t there but five minutes, staring out into the night, when I heard the door knob click.

  
  
“Everythin’ alright dahrlin’?”

  
Miles stood in the doorway, nothing but his purple polka dot boxers and a gold, satin robe hanging from his slight frame. It was my favorite on him, but I wore it more often than not. Only he could make this look elegant.

  
“It’s alright Mi, you can go back to  
bed lovely.” I unfold myself from the blanket to see him better.

  
  
“No I wanna be with ya, and if you’re not in bed, then I don’t wanna be either.”

  
  
“You’re ridiculous.” I smiled at him. He always knew.

  
“I know, but you love me.”

  
  
“I do, with all of me, baby.”

  
  
He sauntered over, robe swaying in the night air. He pulled up the blanket around my lap, and snuggled close to me. It wasn’t cold out yet, spring was ending, and the summer months were fast approaching.

  
“Insomnia?” He slung his arm around my shoulder, pulling me impossibly closer. I laid my head on his chest, feeling his heartbeat on my ear.

  
“No, I’m just thinking about next week.” I sighed.

  
“Yeah...aren’t you excited? It’s your first big production! I’m absolutely made up for ya, mum too.” He smiled down at me.

  
“We’re both gonna be so busy. I’m scared we won’t have time.”

  
“Naaah, I’ll always make time for ya dearie.”

  
  
“I know lovely, I’m just going to miss this smile terribly. And your scruff, and your laugh, and your touch...” I cupped his cheek, feeling his grinning 5 o’clock shadow under my palm. We looked into each others eyes, his twinkling with moonlight. He reached out with his own hand, rubbing his thumb across the apple of my cheek.

  
“I’m gonna miss tea. I mean I can make tea, but yours is better.”

  
“I hate you.” I turned away, a playful glare in my eyes.

  
He giggled, and made to pull me back, facing him, cross legged on the seat this time.

  
“No love...I’ll miss ya so much, Al will probably ship me off to yea in a box by the end. I miss ya every time we’re apart. Especially in that domestic kinda way, ya know? I miss your hair in the mornin’...miss you readin’ out ‘ere in the summer...miss your records playin’ while ya cook.” He trailed off, like he wanted to say more, but decided against it.

  
“You’re secretly very sentimental you know that?” I laughed breathily out my nose.

  
  
“Only with you.”

  
  
“And your boyfriend.”

  
  
“And my boyfriend.”

  
  
I giggled out loud now, leaning into Miles, our foreheads touching, my hands on his thighs for support. If we weren’t together, I’d say Alex and Mi definitely would be.

  
“Now I’m just thinking about who’s gunna make you tea...” I worried. He clicked his tongue, cupping my cheeks, his long fingers pushing into my hair. He leaned in again, kissing my head.

   
  
“You wanna go back to bed? I know you hafta run lines tomorrow.”

  
  
“Yeah, but it’s a video call. I can be in my jams, they don’t care. I’m just so anxiety ridden now. My bones hurt.”

  
  
“My little worry wort. Cummon, give us a smile.” He goaded playfully.

  
“No.”

  
I was just being stubborn. I’d love nothing more than to jump back into bed with him. His mere presence made me smile, light radiating from every part of him. When Mi was smiling, so was I.

  
  
“Should I play ya somethin’?”

  
He knew what I’d really wanted. He always did.

  
“Maybe. Please.”

  
  
A small smirk spread across my lips, I couldn’t deny him a single thing.

  
  
“There it is. Two shakes lovely.”

  
  
Jumping up, he padded back inside, returning seconds later, his acoustic guitar in hand.

  
  
“What’s on the set list tonight...?” I asked, leaning my elbow on the back of the seat, my head resting in hand.

  
  
“This morning...I’m feeling The Stones.”

  
“My favorite?” I looked on as he adjusted the guitar in his lap.

  
“Yes mam.”

  
Miles starts the first notes. I’m wondering if he ever gets tired of playing this for me. It’s a classic, and those can get old. But for me, this one speaks to my soul. My heart always gushing with untapped emotion every time. And when Miles sings it, it settles my soul into the deepest calm I’ve ever known.  

  
  
**_“Childhood liviiing, is eeeasy to dooo...”_ ** **_  
_ **

  
I shut my eyes, the blanket of calm coming over me. I could hear the slide of the pick on the stings, his words whispered, as to not wake the neighbors.

  
  
**_“The things you wanteeed, I bought them for yooou...”_ ** **_  
_ **

  
Of all the things Mi does for me, this is my favorite. It’s so quiet, and intimate, so unlike him most of the time. Getting to see him this way, even in his fabulously loud dressing gown, makes me feel loved.

  
  
**_“Graceless ladyyy, you knooow who I aaaam...”_ ** **_  
_ **

  
I’m drifting now. I try to open my eyes to see his face again, but he’s blurry, and so is the night. I want one more minute with him before doctor dusk comes to call...just one more.

  
**_“You know I can’t let yooouu, slide through my haaaands...”_ ** **_  
_ **

  
I didn’t feel him pick me up in his arms. Nor did I notice him pulling my socks back on, knowing where they’d be. I also didn’t hear him whisper into my hair, as he held me close.

  
  
“Sleep my sweet girl. Tomorrow’s a new day.”

 

  
I woke up to the sounds of the city outside. The bedroom window was open, and I was alone. I looked to Mi’s side of the bed, by the window. He usually shields me from the cold. Before I can worry about where he’s gone, his smiling face is in the doorway. He had striped pajamas bottoms on now, that don’t match his dressing gown, and I smile.

  
“For a man with such great fashion sense, you really let yourself go at home.” I teased him.

  
“Is that any way, to treat your lover, who has brought you brekkie? He said slowly as he wrestled a tray from the hallway. He came and sat on his side, placing the tray between us.

  
“Oh Mi, you didn’t have to.”

  
  
I smile at him, hoping he knows that no matter how much I tease him, I love him more by the minute.

  
“It’s Saturday love! Thought I’d whip us up a proper scran. _Aaaaand_ I made tea.”

  
He picked up the mug I knew was mine, it was white and dainty with different types of cats on it. Accepting the warm cup from him, I took a sip and smiled. It was perfect, the way I liked it. One sugar, too much cream.

  
  
“Oh love, I think you’ll be okay after all.” I told him, proud of his tea making skills.

  
“I learned from the best!” He leaned over, pecking quick kisses up my shoulder to my neck. His scruff tickled making me almost sputter tea all over the bed spread.

  
  
“Stop you fiend! I’m gonna spill!” I teased him laughing while I tried to save my teacup.

  
“I’d like to see you try and stop me.” He dares, taking my cup from my hand and leaning in closer.

  
We arched towards each other over the tray on the bed, his handsome face in the crook of my neck, my hands toying with the loose tie of his robe. This was a moment frozen in time. I felt like I had a snapshot of our life right here, that I could keep forever in my minds eye.

  
“Promise me, that being away won't change anything...promise me, that we’ll always come back to this.” I whispered near his ear, choking up on the tie, twisting it in my fist.

  
He never worried, or I assumed he didn’t. He was confident in our love, and that made me feel ashamed. It’s not that I wasn’t. It’s that having something this good, this pure and free felt too good to be true. Like it’d get snatched away from under us at any moment.

  
  
But Miles always knew.

  
  
He pulled away from my neck, and laced his fingers through my hair, his long, calloused fingers scratching away my worries. I closed my eyes, and felt his lips on mine instantly. They were soft, and warm, his beard tickling my chin. I breathed him in, and he did the same. He smelled like syrup and strawberries. He broke away, still holding my head, his eyes were smiling at me.

  
  
“ _Wild Horses_ couldn’t drag me away from this las. I love yea too much. I promise ya, always.”  


 


	2. Part 2

# Part 2

 

“‘Stella? Have you seen me blue suede loafers love?”

 

Mi and I were packing. Okay, I was already packed, and Miles was rummaging through his wardrobe. He was leaving tomorrow and of course, he hadn’t packed everything yet. All his shirts and trousers were packed away in his stand up case, but he’d yet to wrap up the important things like shoes...and underwear.

 

“Last time you wore those was Christmas.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Yes, you said they went with that orange jacket you insisted on wearing...Alex’s party?”

 

He poked his head out of the closet, pointing the toe of an alligator boot at me.

 

“Hey, it’s burnt orange,okay. Big difference.” He scolds, ducking back into the abyss.

 

“Yes, one is louder, but it’s still orange.”

 

“Focus, love! Blue. Suede. Loafers.”

 

As soon as I’m about to approach, the aforementioned boot comes flying at my head. I catch it before it lands on our clean bed, and stand in the closet door, arms crossed. He’s crouched down now, looking through his shoe cubby. It was usually organized, but anytime we packed for long trips, our closet was guaranteed to look like a bomb had gone off. Which is what it looked like now, all for a blue pair of shoes.

 

“Did you check on my side?”

 

“No, why would they be there?”

 

“I was practically carrying you home that night, I might have put them away with my things in the suitcase.”

 

I remembered that day so vividly. It was one of the biggest parties I’d ever been to. It was the first time I’d been back to California in a while, and I was excited to see my mom, maybe an old friend or two. The only reason I’d left LA was because there were already plenty of actors there, and I wanted to be on a stage. The lights shining on my face, the ten second costume changes, the singing, and the family you made while doing a production. I wanted that. It was Broadway or bust.

 

Being back home was surreal. My mom still lived in Pasadena, where I grew up, and I was so ready to go see her. Apparently she had a new boyfriend, and I needed to meet him. What she didn’t know is that she was going to meet mine too.

 

My mom loved Miles, as most people do when they meet him.

 

 _“ ‘ello Mum, great to meet ya. I’m ready for the embarrassing photos whenever you are.”_ He said upon hugging her, whispering that last part.

 

They swayed in place like they’d done it a thousand times before, my mom cooing and fawning over his accent. I couldn’t help the little spark of pride, and satisfaction I felt seeing that. But it hadn’t lasted long.

 

 _“Why didn’t you tell me he was coming? Why didn’t you tell me about_ him _?”_

 

_“I thought I’d surprise you!”_

I had tried to save myself, but it didn’t work. My half hearted smile and raised shoulders didn’t convince her. She’d asked Miles if he’d wanted anything to drink, and pulled me aside as he sat in the kitchen with my cat Cici and a Coke, petting her chin the way she liked. He even knew how to work a different species to its knees.

 

_“I’d like to know my daughter has a boyfriend before she brings him home. That and I would have put something nicer on…”_

 

She’d been painting when we’d showed up, her dirty UCLA shirt covered in splatters, her jeans holey and dusty. My mom wore many hats, but when she wasn’t painting, or sewing, or baking (terribly might I add) she worked for UCLA’s Television department. When I was little she worked for our local weather station, working behind the scenes, turning knobs, adjusting scripts, making sure everyone looked good. But that wasn’t the case in this instance. Because she was making me look pretty bad.

 

_“Is he a good guy? Does he have a job? Is he allergic to shellfish? I need to know these things Essie.”_

 

_“Yes, yes, and no. He loves crab.”_

 

_“That’s not what I mean.”_

 

_“I’m sorry mom, we’re going to a friends Christmas party in town, and I just wanted to come see you, and I wanted you to meet Miles. I wouldn’t have been able to make it out here without him anyway, he paid for my sorry ass to get here.”_

 

 _“Are you taking_ advantage _of that poor boy?! I never taught you to…”_ She whispered frantically at me, so seething and shocked she couldn’t finish.

 

_“Mom. Breath. No. Him and I are defiantly for real. It’s just a lot of money to get from London to LA and-“_

 

_“LONDON?!”_

 

I had forgotten I hadn’t told her. And I felt terrible. My mom and I were never really close, emotionally speaking. Even when I was a kid, we lived pretty separate lives. I was always entertaining myself, or with friends. Not that she wasn’t a good mother; she was the best I could ask for. She’s creative, spontaneous, open minded, and driven, all things she’d passed onto me. Maybe that’s why, when I decided to follow my dream after high school, and move to New York, she let me. There was no dramatic sobbing, no begging me to stay. She knew this is what I was meant to do, and she knew I was ready to start my own life. We talked every once in a while in the beginning, but as the years went on, and I grew up, communication became less and less. I hadn’t talked to her now in about 5 months. Mi and I had only been dating for about 2 months then, but I didn’t want to get her hopes up. So I hadn’t told her. About anything.

 

_“Yeah...Miles and I kind of live together.”_

 

_“You live together?” Her voice getting small and far away._

 

 _“Yeah mom. It’s okay, I’m okay. I...I love Mi. Very much, and I know he loves me more. He invited me to live with him a couple months ago. I didn’t want to leave him.”_ I was desperate, trying to pour all my feelings for Mi into this minuscule, unworthy explanation. I hoped she’d see that my whole heart belonged to this magic man.

 

 _“You should have told me.”_ She was still mad, but I think the look on my face had told her I wouldn’t budge when it came to Miles fucking Kane.

 

_“I’m sorry...I’m just not sorry about him. Does that make sense?”_

 

She smiled at me then. It was tinted with her hurt, but it was still a smile.

 

 _“Yeah, it does…”_ she sighed then, holding her hand out to me.

 

I took it, and she swung our arms back and forth lazily as she squeezed my hand.

 

_“And you’re sure he loves you more?”_

 

It was hard to deny. Mi believed in me, regardless of talent. He loves my cooking, and the way I sneeze. He knows which ice cream to buy, and how I like my tea. I never order drinks at the bar, because he knows gin’s my favorite, and rum makes me gag. My bed head turns him on, and he’s the only one who’s allowed to paint my toenails. Miles made me feel so alive, and knowing that I’m the reason he’s happy? The reason for his cackling laugh, or the color in his cheeks...that made me weightless.

 

_“I’ve never been more sure.”_

 

We’d carried on in the kitchen, Miles getting to see his promised pictures, leaving me absolutely mortified. My hair was always short when I was a kid, it made me look like a boy most of the time, shaggy bangs and short dirty blond curls forming at my neck. It got longer, and darker as the pictures went from fifth grade, to my prom photo, where I was complete with updo, and a really short date.

 

 _“This reminds me of Al and Taylor...don’t tell him I said that, he’ll murder me.”_  Miles had giggled, as we sat at the kitchen table.

 

_“Why do you think I’m with you handsome?”_

 

_“Because I’m devastating!”_

 

 _“I did meet Al first you know. It could have been him.”_ I teased him. He knew I only had eyes for him.

 

 _“Naa, he’s got a thing for taller girls.”_ He teased me back, tickling my side.

 

I had pushed his hands down, and held them with mine as we leaned closer, endorphins running high from the sensation.

 

_“I am a bit shorter than him. Would never have worked between us.”_

 

We leaned in to kiss then. It was sweet, drawn out, but not so much my mom might need to leave the room. There was suddenly a strangled sigh from across the table.

 

_“You two are gonna make me hurl or cry, and I’m not sure which one yet.”_

 

I’d made us lunch that afternoon, in my childhood kitchen. Miles and my mom talked about me like I wasn’t in the room, and about him with some hesitance from Mi. He's always so excited, and proud of what he does, but by the look he gave me from across the kitchen table, he didn’t want to freak her out even more.

 

 _“I write music, been in a few bands over the years.”_ Miles told her.

 

I was not about to let that go.

 

_“Miles Kane, don't you dare try and be modest. He’s a rockstar mom.”_

 

I could see Miles bubbling with pride at my words. I knew how amazing he was, and I wanted everyone and my mother to know.

 

 _“Eeeey, stop geggin’ in love. This is an A and B convo here!”_ Miles joked.

 

 _“It's true.”_ I said fondly. I was endlessly proud of all Miles was.

 

Mom was seemingly enthralled by this, and continued playing twenty questions with Mi. What does he play? Does he sing me songs? Do you know Mick Jagger?

 

Miles laughed, indulging her. He was bouncing in his seat, and using his hands to talk, which I loved way beyond reason. On our way out, Miles kissed my mom on both cheeks, and hugged her long, and snug. She whispered in his ear then, and to this day- since Mi never mentioned it- I’ve never had the heart to ask what she’d said.

 

That night we’d walked out of the Loews Hollywood, clad in our best. Miles in his orange jacket, and me in a shimmery black jumpsuit. It was sleeveless, the straps coming up over my breasts in a gathering of fabric, and tying around my waist. I had saved up to buy something like this, not knowing if or when I’d get invited to a party full of Mi’s famous friends. I was so in awe of Mi, and I wanted to at least be able to hold a candle to his swagger. When I’d come out of the bathroom, nervous as all hell, Mi looked at me like I was the only star in the sky.

 

 _“G’wed Stella my girl!”_ his eyes were wide, smile alight as he clapped his hands together.

 

 _“Is it alright?”_ I’d asked, stupidly.

 

 _“Alright? You look absolutely boss tonight lovely. I have no other words. Yer gonna blow them all away in this number.”_ He took my hand and spun me around, bringing be back to him with his hands around my waist.

 

 _“You don’t look to bad yourself handsome.”_ I had said, running my hands over the lapels of his jacket. A jacket that cost more than my outfit, and all the makeup I’d used tonight combined.

 

 I hadn’t had a lot in the way of jobs when I moved in with Miles. I had gotten a few small commercial gigs, voice over stuff in New York, as well as my day job at a local salon in town. I was doing okay for a single struggling actor. But once we’d flown across the pond, I was virtually lost. At first I tried just flat out auditioning. Traveling to the heart of London and back, learning how public transport there worked, video calls, and 3 in the morning monologues. But nothing was working. I was an American in the UK, trying to sell myself. They just didn't want me. At first, I was devastated. I apologized to Miles on a daily basis- unnecessarily, he’d told me. I knew Mi had enough saved for himself, and royalties coming in to keep both of us a float for years. Not to mentions all the live gigs he did on the side for other artists.

 

 _“Don't let me forget to pay you back for the shoes.”_ I’d said, looking down at the leopard print, wedge booties on my feet.

 

_“I told yea doll, they’re an early christmas gift. I don't wanna hear a word about it.”_

 

He brushed a piece of my tousled hair back from my face, and cupped my cheek. I leaned in greedily, wanting him to know how grateful I was.

 

_“The price of those shoes was more than a car payment.” I’d grumbled._

 

_“The price of those shoes, is just a fraction of all the things I wanna give to ya.”_

 

 _“Miles.”_ I’d scolded him.

 

 _“Estella.”_ he teased right back.

 

We never called each other by our full names unless we meant business.

 

_“I know you’re all nerves love, but I’m positive everyone will love ya as much as Al and I do.”_

 

_“I know a total of four people going to this party, including you.”_

 

 _“Well then, I guess we’ll just have to show the rest of them how the five of us get down!”_ He’d started to dance with me, his hips swinging with mine. I giggled at his suggestive smile, his wiggling eyebrows. He took all my tension away.

 

 _“How do you get me, every time Miles Kane?”_ I asked, unable to fathom his powers of casting joy, and ease. He looked in my eyes then, knowing full well what i’d meant. But he didn’t answer my question, instead kissing my head, and turning us toward the door.  

 

_“Come’ ed love. Let's show them all how to have a merry fookin’ Christmas.”_

  
  
  


 

“Aha!”

 

He’d found the loafers.

 

“Told you.” I whispered to him, a smirk on my face.

 

“I’d be blind and def without ya darlin.”

 

“And loafer-less.”

 

“That too.”

 

“Do you need help?” He asked, probably feeling bad for sending us on goose chase for his shoes.

 

“No my love, I’ve just gotta pick up from the cleaners tomorrow.” I told him, handing him his boot from earlier.

 

“I hate leaving ya all alone here.”

 

He was out of the closet now, moving to grab around my slight waist. He pulled me closer, and I felt his warmth against all of me. I could smell his soap, no cologne today. His shirt hung open at the top, and I went to stroke his gold chain laid against his tanned skin. I could feel his hands sneak under my shirt, his pinky ring cold on my back as he stroked back and forth.

“It’s only two days. I can manage, I’m home.”

 

“I love when you say that.”

 

“What?”

 

“When you call England home.”

 

I sighed at this, only pretending to look exasperated. I really only had one simple answer.

“My home is wherever you are. And you’re here...for the moment.”

 

“I don’t want to leave.” he pressed his forehead to mine, his eyes scrunching shut, as if in pain.

 

“You miss him. Don’t lie.”

 

Mi let out a breathy sigh, and proceeded to chuckle, shaking his head at the mention of Al.

 

“I do, but he’s not you. He can’t give me what you give me.”

 

“A woman’s touch?”

 

“Precisely. Does have soft hands though.”

 

I rolled my eyes playfully at him.

 

“Tell him I miss him too okay? I’m gonna try to come see you okay? We should have a couple of weekends off I can catch a flight.” I rambled, already feeling pressed for time.

 

“Whatever yea fancy love. I told you, I’ll always have time for ya.”

 

He kissed me. Soft and gentle now, knowing I was panicking again.

 

“Can’t even find me shoes with you in the bloody room, how do you think I’m gonna be when you’re across the country?”

 

“I’m sure that lad with the soft hands will be able to tell you.”

 

Miles laughed out loud, head thrown back, full on cackle. He grasped my hand, and brought my fingertips to his lips.

 

“I love you me girl...there’s no softer hands in the west.”

 

I know now, I never want to know a day without him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this continuation does the first one justice. Thanks for reading everyone! Drop me a line as always!


	3. Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How we say goodbye...

##  Part 3

“If I go with you, I’m just going to be another girl crying in an airport. How cliché.” 

****

Mi and I stood by the front door. It was too early, the sun just peeking between the blinds, making soft, glowing columns on the floor. His suitcases were packed and waiting, the leather jacket that he shared custody of with Alex, hanging over one of the handles. He held me close, hands clasped at my lower back, calloused thumbs rubbing up and down my spine there. It felt so good, I knew he could feel me shake every now and again from the touch. He leaned back to look at me, our hips fitting together like they had a thousand times before. 

****

“I love a good cliché, let’s you know the world has some consistency about it.” 

****

“Do you have everything? Plug converters? Socks? Lucky briefs?”

****

“I don’t have lucky briefs.” He scrunched his brow together. 

****

“Everyone has lucky underwear.” I insisted, just wanting to tease him one more time before he leaves. 

****

“You don’t get lucky, with lucky pants.” His eyebrows wiggled up and down now, his smirk inviting me closer. I tilt my head to the side. 

****

“That’s somehow gross and sexy all at once.” I tell him, I just wanna hear his laugh one more time. 

****

“I don’t need luck anyway, I’ve got Al. He’s like a magic lamp. You just rub him and music comes out.” His eyes cast to the ceiling, as if imagining the music swimming in the air. 

****

“That’s also somehow gross, and endearing at the same time.” 

****

There it was. The only thing I ever needed to hear. That stupid, wild, untamed laugh. He jostled me a little, swayed from side to side. 

****

“I love yea.” He sighs after he calms his cackles. I didn’t want this to be over yet. 

****

“Miles.” I turn on my serious voice, hoping that will slow him down. 

****

“Don’t do that.” He shakes his head, he’s serious now too. It seems my tone had the opposite effect than I’d hoped. He knows what I’m doing, and he doesn’t want to remember our goodbye this way. Neither do I, so I try again. 

****

“Have fun. I know you will. Try and forget me for a little while.” 

****

I leaned in closer, hands on his cheeks, my thumbs ghosting over his mouth, his jaw, his nose. 

****

“Impossible. Don’t you dare go and do the same.” He leaned in, touching his forehead to mine, my hands still caressing his face. 

****

“Even if I wanted to, it’d never happen. Your magics’ too deep under my skin lovely.” I whisper to him. 

****

“I dunno about magic.” He rolls his eyes, his smirk telling me he knows I’m right. 

****

“My magic man. My King Kane. The sun doesn’t shine without you…” I wax poetic for a moment, hoping to lighten the mood. It only manages to make it heavier. 

****

“You’re makin me positively gloomy darlin’. Hush.”

****

He gently pushes my hands away, only to pull me in. He’s pushing his hands into my hair, his face pressed close to my head, inhaling deep. We sway to the beat of the tune in Mi’s head. 

****

“I don’t think I can let go.” He murmurs into my hair, his breath fluttering past my ear. 

****

“You’ve gotta.” 

****

“Yer loft is all sorted then?” He pulls away then, looking at me, searching my face for signs of doubt. 

****

“Yes, it’s all taken care of, as far as I know. I just need to find a microwave somehow…I’ll worry about that when I resort to Chinese.” 

****

I’d found a furnished loft for rent near Koreatown about a week after I got the callback. It was small, but it was just me, myself, and I. 

****

“If you’re sure...I’m sure Al wouldn’t mind you staying at his place.” He looked so hopeful. Like if I stayed at Alex’s place in Manhattan, we’d somehow be closer. Feel closer, at least. 

****

“How would I even get the key?” 

****

“He’d overnight it to you.” He stated with confidence. 

****

“That’s so excessive.” I rolled my eyes, leaning my head back with them. 

****

“I just don’t wanna worry about you. You’re gonna be alone over there.” He strokes his long fingers over my bed head, smoothing down the lumps and waves. 

****

“No I won’t. I’ve still got a couple of friends in town, and I’m sure the cast will help me with anything I need. Don’t worry about me. Remember, I had a life before I met you.” I raised an eyebrow at him, a small smirk on my lips. 

****

“Funny, I seem to have forgotten.” He said, pretending to think of a time where we weren’t the center of the universe.  

****

“I’ll be okay. Don’t you boys get into too much trouble.” 

****

“No promises.” he smiled, trying to be sly but it came out soft, half hearted. 

****

His phone beeped. A honk of a horn came from outside. I had to say it out loud, or i'd never believe it myself...

****

“You’ve gotta go.” 

****

I looked up at him, his smile wavering. I’d only seen that happen less than a handful of times, and it made my heart squeeze in my chest. His perfect pout turned in on itself, his lips pressing together to stop all the feelings from coming through. I sucked in a breath, ready to hold it until he'd walked out the door, but that was short lived. My eyes were threatening to spill the tears I was holding back with all my might. Suddenly, I was wrapped up in Mi’s arms, my head pressed to his chest. I could feel the warmth from his bare skin peeking through his shirt, and i couldn't resist kissing along his collar bone. I breathed in his scent, the soap from our shower last night, the cigarette smoke from earlier this morning clinging to his shirt. He pulled away again, his hand traveling to my neck, guiding me in for a kiss. His lips were urgent, and needy against my own longing. I pushed into him freely, gladly. 

****

“I’ll call ya when I get there…” he whispered as he broke away. 

****

I could barely breathe now. 

****

“Please do. Wanna make sure you get to your boy in one piece.” I try and joke, if only to make one of us feel better. 

****

“I love ya, me sweet girl.” He told me, going in for another kiss. It’s chaste, yet languid. 

****

“I love you too sunshine.” 

****

“Yer breakin’ me heart over here…” he said, wheeling his suitcases to the door. 

****

“Good. ‘Cause you’re breaking mine.” 

****

“I’ll see you before you know it. Promise.” 

****

“Love you.” My voice is small now, timid despite how much I’d like to scream for him to stay. 

****

“So much more.” He replies. It hurts to watch his face, but my eyes are still open. Like magnets our gazes lock, and I can see he’s hurting too; eyes watery, struggling to focus. I flash him a wobbly smile, and blow him a kiss. He catches it on his way out, and I can just see him smash it on his cheek before the door slams abruptly on its own accord. 

******  
  
**

When the door shuts I can’t really feel my hands...they tingle with the anticipation that he’ll come back through, smiling and telling me it was all a cruel trick. But he doesn’t, and I’m still in my jams, standing in our hallway waiting like a sad puppy. I try and breathe deep, but it comes out loud and shaky. I cover my mouth in protest. I don’t want to cry yet. It’s been literally minutes. 

****

The house is quiet. I hate it. It’s a glaring reminder that he’s not here, and that very soon, I won’t be either. 

****

This has become my home in more ways than I could have dreamed. Mi and I cohabited well, it’s just a fact. We have compromise down to a tee, mainly because Mi can’t pass up a neck rub, or a sexual favor of any kind. I honestly don’t remember the last time I took out the trash. I like to make the bed, which he’d never do, and Mi has introduced me to the wonderful world that is the dry cleaners. My blouses will never be wrinkly again, so help me. We both love inactively watching the news in the morning, if only to hope for cute puppy videos. The music has to be  _ loud _ , and at least one of us is always singing. We’re both pack rats, and love to keep little memories and knick-knacks around the house. Bins full of records, ticket stubs and playbills in a book by the coffee table, photographs I’ve taken of places we’ve been, of us. I can’t look at them now. 

****

I turn my back to the door, and lean on it. I press my palms to the cool wood behind me, trying to ground myself to anything familiar before I have an all out meltdown. I take in a deep breath, and I’m sinking to the floor, letting it out. I feel sick, and hallow now. I know the moment will pass, but I sit with the ache in my chest. Getting used to it. Because now I know, this is how I’ll feel until we’re together again. 

****

I’ve never felt this deeply for anyone in my life. Not even my mom. I know that sounds cold, but I can’t help my heart. I blame my father partially. He wasn’t around when I was growing up, and that always left me a little closed off...a little empty. Other girls went to father daughter dances, saw movies, played sports with their dad. I didn’t feel entirely left out; I’d been too young to remember my father, but something was always missing. My mother told me never to go looking for comfort in a man, because chances are, I wouldn’t find it. And I listened. I’d stayed away from most boys who were more interested in my clothes than playing kickball. I’d dated a couple of guys in high school, but nothing was ever serious. I never let it get that far. I was a virgin till I moved to New York, where I learned the art of the one night stand. The friend with benefits. It was always easy to not get attached. Until I met Miles.

 

* * *

 

****

  
  


I’d woken up to my body overheating. I could feel the sweat forming on my neck, and clinging to my tights...I was thoroughly confused then. It didn’t smell like my bed...the pillow beneath my head much softer than mine, squishy with crisp linen against my cheek. 

 

I felt someone’s hand in my hair, gently pulling it away from my sticky skin. It was precise and tentative, whoever it belonged to. And then I remembered the night before. 

 

Miles had taken me out to a show that night after dinner- some band him and Alex were friends with, Kasabian, I think they were called. I’d only seen him a couple times since we’d met that night at the bar, and I really liked him already, but I wasn’t sure he felt the same. It all seemed so easy for him, perpetually casual, like he went out with a different girl every week.  So last night I’d tried to keep the conversation light, and tried not to over share, or get too personal. But after the drinks at dinner, and the drinks at the show, and the drinks backstage, I think I might have let a few things slip…

 

_ “Miles!” _

 

_ I’d lost him again in the din of chatter and bodies backstage. He was such a social butterfly it was hard to keep track of him. I made my way back from the bar, two cocktails in hand. I didn’t really know what Miles liked, so I just got two of whatever I was having.  _

 

_ I tried to make my way back to the place I’d been with him last, talking to a couple of blondes with the bass player. Needless to say, the scenery had changed, and I had no idea where I was anymore. I sipped from one of the Tom Collins in my hand, thankful for the liquid courage.  _

 

_ I was still wandering when I ran into a guy named Zach, a photographer Miles had introduced me to earlier, his beard and long hair unmistakable. He must have seen the confused look on my face, and approached me smiling. It was so loud I had to lean up on my tiptoes to ask him- _

 

_ “Have you seen Miles? I’ve lost him again.” I said with a smile, unable to control my facial expressions anymore.  _

 

_ “Not since the show, he’s usually with Alex though, I think I saw him over in the hall, I can take you, check it out?”  _

 

_ “Thank you!” I sounded way too enthusiastic.  _

 

_ He put his hand on my back, leading me beside him through the crowd. Swaying bodies threatened to spill my drinks, fluorescent lights making the black walls look harsh, causing the band stickers and signatures to pop like chalk outlines. My eyes darted past any face that wasn’t Miles, hoping to find him in the crowd. I was really starting to think he’d ditched me. _

 

_ That’s when I saw him. He looked worried, talking to people just out of reach, anyone who would listen to him, jumping from group to group. What was wrong? Had something happened? Was Alex okay?  _

 

_ “Estella? Stella?!” He shouted into the room.  _

 

_ Was that look for me?  _

 

_ “Over here!” Zach yelled for him.  _

 

_ I had never seen someone move so fast, or maybe that was just how drunk I was. Miles was in front of us in seconds, his hands cupping either side of my face.  _

 

_ “Where have ya been love? I’ve been worried about ya.” He smiled down at me, relief taking over his features.  _

 

_ “I went to get us a drink, but you were gone when I turned around. I might have finished mine…” I said, holding his drink between our faces.  _

 

_ He took the sweating glass, his rings clinking against the glass. When he took a sip he raised his eyebrows at me.  _

 

_ “Gin?”  _

 

_ “I didn’t know for sure, and I didn’t want any more tequila…” I blushed redder than a rose.  _

 

_ We’d gone to one of my favorite Mexican places for dinner, and Tequila was good, but it made me get real stupid, real fast.  _

 

_ “So is this your drink of choice m’lady?”  _

 

_ “It usually is. But I’m already too far gone for that to matter.”  _

 

_ Oh god, I’d really said that. This is usually when the guy asks if you want another drink, or if you wanna go back to his place. I was bracing myself for it. I looked at Miles one last time, knowing I’d have to walk away after tonight if I wanted to save myself. I’d miss his sweet, crooked smile, and his hands on my waist… _

 

_ “We should get you some water then love, what do you say? Midnight snack maybe?” Miles asked me.  _

 

_ Wait...this wasn’t how this was supposed to go. But I liked Miles...I liked him a lot. I wanted to hold on a little longer.  _

 

_ “Pizza sounds really good right now.”  _

_ Obviously my stomach was doing the thinking.  _

 

_ “Then pizza it is! Let’s go find Al, see if he wants to come with.”  _

 

_ Miles grabbed my hand, and downed his tumbler in two gulps, taking my empty glass with his and leaving them on a table littered with smashed beer cans and shot glasses. We weaved our way to the back door, and it lead us out to the ally behind the venue. There were lots of people out here, surprisingly. And among them was Alex, the only discernible feature his white chelsea boots, and the back of his long slicked back hair. He currently had a leggy blonde in a baby blue mini dress pressed up against the wall.  _

 

_ “Maybe we should just let him be.” I whispered to Miles.  _

 

_ We kept on walking past, but not before Miles cat called at the both of them. We were trying to hold in our giggles, to no avail.  _

 

_ Alex’s head whipped around, and he looked about ready to deck someone.  _

 

_ But then he saw us, and his face softened, breaking out into a smirk before he was pulled back into the fray by his collar.  _

 

_ We both laughed, holding hands as we walked out into the slightly chilly night air. It felt good on my skin after being crammed together with so many people.  _

 

_ “So do you know a good place?” Miles asked.  _

 

_ “Yes! And I don’t think we’re too far. Carmine is like...a block away. If you don’t mind walking?” At that moment I don’t think even I could walk a block without falling against a random storefront or running into a pole. My vision was swimming, and my head felt light. But I wasn’t sick-yet- so I kept on.  _

 

_ “Only if  _ you _ can love. Those boots don’t look like they’re made for walking.” _

 

_ My shoes were obscene tonight and I couldn’t deny that these heeled leather lace up boots were cute...but not for walking Greenwich Village at 1AM.  _

 

_ “You’re right, they’re not. But I’ll make it!” I was way too optimistic, and I think Miles saw right through me. The next thing I know, he’s let go of my hand, kneeling with his back to me.  _

 

_ “Hop on queenie.” He wiggled his fingers behind him, beckoning my legs around his waist.  _

 

_ “Miles…” I’m hesitant, but I’m drunk and my feet hurt, and I want nothing more than to trust him. To let him take care of me.  _

 

_ “It’s alright, I’ve gotcha love.” He assured me.  _

 

_ I straddled his back, his arms looping under my knees.  _

 

_ “See? All better.” He hopped a little, adjusting me higher.  _

 

_ My arms wound tighter around his neck, my face pressed close to his. I rested my chin on his shoulder. I could smell his cologne now, it was clean, and masculine but not overpowering. The pomade in his hair smelled good too, like lemongrass or something...I couldn’t put my finger on it. The cigarette smoke was a comforting addition.  _

 

_ “You smell really good…” I blurted out.  _

 

_ I expected Miles to drop me, but that didn’t happen. Of course it didn’t, but I was wishing he would, so I could get swallowed by the whole in the ground that awaited me.  _

 

_ “Thanks love, you don’t smell too bad yourself...” He laughed, squeezing my legs in tighter. I thought he was finished but then he blurted out-  _

 

_ “...like vanilla, and orange blossom.”  _

 

_ “You’re making me sound like a creamsicle.”  _

 

_ Miles laughed, big and loud.  _

 

_ “Alright my little creamsicle, where exactly is this place?”  _

 

_ “It’s called Joe’s and its on 7 Carmine. I think...is it 7 or 8?”  _

 

_ “I’m sure we’ll figure it out.”  _

 

_ “Well you can’t miss it, it’s kinda on the corner.” _

 

_ “Kinda?” Miles was thoroughly amused by my uncertainty.  _

 

_ “You’ll see. Promise.” I wanted him to trust me. Even if I was drunk, I could find my way to Joe’s blindfolded. The smell called me home like a beacon.  _

 

_ We made it to Joe’s, me ordering for us, still riding piggyback, Miles pulling a ten from his jean pocket to pay.  _

 

_ We had since detached and had our slices in hand, Miles stealing a sip of my Mexican Coke in the bottle.  _

 

_ “Should we find someplace?” Miles looked around, pointing here and there.  _

 

_ “Yeah, there’s a fountain over by the Church across the street.” I suggested. He grabbed my hand, and I led us across the empty street. There was something about New York at night, in small villages like this, suburbs with a little old world charm. It felt peaceful, the yellow street lamps glowing, the sound of a lone car, driving down the street. It made you feel like you had the whole city to yourself.  _

 

_ Miles and I sat side by side on one of the benches that circled the three tiered fountain. I could see him out of the corner of my eye staring down the Coke in my hand again, so I handed it to him.  _

 

_ “Pizza that bad huh?”  _

 

_ “No, no love it’s boss! I just love the way these taste. We don’t usually get them back home.”  _

 

_ “Really?! We’re pretty lucky here, Mexico’s just a stone’s throw.”  _

 

_ “Should have gotten my own, I’m sorry love.” He giggled.  _

 

_ “Don’t be sorry, you bought it. It’s all you.”  _

 

_ I let him take another sip, and he set it down between us.  _

 

_ “So how’d you like the show tonight?” He asked me, taking another bite of pepperoni.  _

 

_ “It was great. I’ve never heard them before, so I have nothing to compare it to, but their live show was so...alive!”  My shoulders were doing weird things, and my head flopped to and fro. Man was I gone.  _

 

_ “Yeah the blokes put on a good show.”  _

 

_ “How do you know them?” I was curious now. Miles had told me he and Alex both were musicians, but I’d never heard of them, never seen his face until that fateful night.  _

 

_ “The guys are big time in the music industry, supported Al and the Monkeys when they first started out.”   _

 

_ “The Monkeys? Isn’t that a band from like, the 60’s? Hey hey, we’re the Monkeys?” I was way too drunk to be making sense.  _

 

_ “Well you’re not wrong. I thought I told you...Al’s the frontman for the Arctic Monkeys. Different Monkeys. A lot younger. Better music I think.”  _

 

_ “Are you serious? I feel so stupid. Like...The Olympics Arctic Monkeys? AM Arctic Monkeys?” I was whispering like it was a secret, even though we were the only souls on the block.  _

 

_ “The very same.” Miles smiled, taking more pizza into his mouth.  _

 

_ He had a look of pride on his face. Like “yeah, that’s my best friend” kind of pride. It was cute.  _

 

_ “Man I must be really drunk every time I see him, or I really need my eyes checked. He looks so different!”   _

 

_ “We’ve been friends for years. We did a project together back in 2008. The Last Shadow Puppets.”  _

 

_ “That’s a pretty mouthful.”  _

 

_ “Isn’t it?” Miles turned to me then, a goofy grin on his lips.  _

 

_ “Well I’m sure you’re brilliant together. I’d like to hear you sing. Do you sing?” I insisted.  _

 

_ “Yeah I do. Do you?”  _

 

_ He was trying to change the subject, and I wasn’t sure if it was because he wanted to know more about me, or if he knew I was drunk off my ass and wouldn’t remember anything he told me about  _ him _ tomorrow. But I would. I knew I would. It was impossible to erase Miles from my brain, drunk or not.  _

 

_ “I’m a theatre kid, of course I sing. And not just in bars with strange men.”  _

 

_ “Ouch! Strange!? We had a proper moment in the loo that night. I’d like to think we bonded.” He pretended to look offended, and snatched the Coke from the bench.  _

 

_ “No, you're right we did bond over cocktails in the men's room. Look at us now?”  I stated, holding my hand out for the bottle. Miles handed it back, but not before brushing his fingers with mine.  _

 

_ “I know I told you ya looked amazing earlier at dinner, but you're a stunner Stella. Every time I look atcha, I wanna kiss ya.  Just know I think that about all of ya; you're funny, and creative, and just an ace babe.” _

 

_ My brain function had ceased. And if it was working, it was doing so without me knowing. I was gob smacked at how honest he was being. No matter how drunk I was, I could tell when a guy was nervous, and Miles was exhibit A. Especially now since I wasn't saying anything.  _

 

_ “You know, I only wanted to see if Al wanted to tag along, because I thought you might...be a little uncomfortable with jus me. But I'm glad it's just us now Stella.” he leaned forward onto his knees, head turned my way.  _

 

_ I was still gaping like a fish, and I wasn't sure he was real. Lots of guys did this- usually after they’d already gotten what they wanted. Expecting an instant compliance from me. Miles was offering this up freely, damn the consequences. So I said damn them too. _

 

_ “Miles. This is the most comfortable I’ve been with another human being- let alone a guy- in years. You’re so charming, and you make me curious again, like a kid. I was picturing every tragic scenario on how tonight might end, but I’m glad you shot down every possibility. I was ready to run tonight, because I thought you might not like me the way I like you. Now I kinda wanna stay and see what happens.”  _

 

_ I was calm about it. Matter of fact. I wasn't expecting this from Miles. He had a natural honesty about him; he wasn't trying to be cool, he just was. I was coming to find that I should expect the unexpected from him.  _

 

_ “Let's have it then love.” he says, stealing the bottle from me again, taking the last sip.  _

 

It all gets fuzzy after that. I remember laughing, and there was a Billy Idol song stuck in my head every time I tried to go back and remember the rest of the night. I decided it wasn't worth remembering when I could just ask Miles. I felt his hand again, and realized he was lying next to me, feeling his weight shift the bed when he moved. 

 

I opened my eyes then, I couldn't help but smile, slow and sleepy. His eyes were on me. Little shadows under his lashes from our late night escapades, but his pupils were blown wide and shown bright with the soft light of the morning. 

 

“I knew you’d be beautiful first thing in the mornin’.” Miles cooed.

 

“Look out, he’s a charmer.” my voice was raspy with disuse. 

 

He pushed my hair back some more, stroking it now. He didn’t have a shirt on, but his pants from last night were still tight around his long legs. I on the other hand, was still fully clothed, sans heels, thank god. 

 

“Where are we?” I look around the room, assessing my surroundings. The bedroom was probably as big as my living room at home. There was a grey dresser in front of the bed, a flat screen TV above it. There were framed polaroids on the wall. They looked personal, intimate.  I could make out the city from the curtain-less window, we were up pretty high up. 

 

“Alex’s place. You passed out in the cab. Didn't wanna wake ya.” 

 

“I hope to god this isn't his bed.” I get up slightly, looking around the bed. Its luxurious and I almost feel guilty. 

 

“No it's mine.” he says, leaning his head in his hand propped up on the pillow.

 

“Oh, now I feel loads better.” I fell back down onto the bed, my hair fanning out on brushing Miles’ arm. 

 

“Don't worry, I tucked ya in nice and snug. Slept in Al’s room, said he wasn't coming home.” 

 

“Such a gentleman...and lucky boy, she was pretty smokin’.” I joked, though she was pretty hot. I was almost envious. 

 

“Oh, are you into blondes then?” Miles asked, a playful lilt in his voice. 

 

“Not as much as I’m into brunettes.” I said, reaching my hand up, running it through his messy brown hair. 

 

“Well it was hard not to crawl in next to ya, that's for sure.” He leaned into my touch. I liked that more than I'd care to admit. 

 

“I don’t remember much after Joe’s. Anything I might regret?” I changed the subject quick before it got to serious...or sexual.

 

“I don't think so. Unless you regret indirectly asking me out, calling me charming, and then singing along to “Mony, Mony” in the taxi so loud the cabbie almost kicked us out.” 

 

I covered my eyes, draping my arm across my face. 

 

“Did I not mention that I love Billy Idol?” I said, eyes still hidden. 

 

“After last night, your love is quite apparent.” 

 

He pulled my arm away from my face then, lacing his fingers with mine and kissing my knuckles. His lips were soft, his stubble a pleasant tickle on my hand. 

 

“Well at least tell me you sang along.”  

 

“Absolutely, wouldn't let you make a fool of yourself alone.” 

 

This man was doing circles around my heart. 

 

“Did I at least give you a goodnight kiss for your trouble.” I asked him. We hadn’t properly kissed yet- maybe on the head, or the cheek- and I would kick myself if I couldn't remember. 

 

“No, but you could give me a good morning kiss. You know, to make it up to me.” he shrugged, trying to act nonchalant. 

 

I leaned up towards him, and grabbed his cheek in my hand. I pulled him closer to me on the bed. I wanted to feel his weight pressed against me. I wanted so much more from this man. His magic aura put me completely at ease, my inhibitions from last night completely out the window. He waited for me to make the first move, so I pressed my lips full on him, gently. I didn’t want to tease, or wait anymore, but I didn't want to scare him. He opened his mouth slowly, cautiously licking my bottom lip, asking permission. So I gave it freely. We were a mess of tongues and tangled limbs then, our clothes still on like a couple of teenagers. His hands explored wild my hair, pulling away to look at it in awe every few seconds. My fingers dug into his lean shoulders for purchase as we rolled on the linen that smelt of lemongrass, and now, creamsicles. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you from the bottom of my heart for reading. Drop me a line, as always, I love hearing what you all think!


	4. Part 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our love birds have flown the coup.

##  Part 4

 

Normally airports excite me. The prospect of travel, a strange land, or someplace you know feels like home. Today is void of that excitement. 

 

I’d just landed at JFK, and already I wanted to go home. I want to go back to my bed, and my kitchen, and my turntable, and most of all my man. Miles had called me late the day he left. I had been wallowing, but I wasn't going to let him know, at least not on purpose. 

 

_ “You made it!” _ I’d said, trying to sound excited; happy. 

 

_ “Yeah lovely, we made it. With a two hour layover, but we made it.” _ he sighed, I could hear him shuffling around, bags crinkling, probably rifling through Al’s kitchen.  

 

I was in bed, on Mi’s side, my face buried in his squishy pillow. I was listening to “A Hard Days Night”, the needle softly scratching every now and then on the old record. I listened to it when I missed him. When I couldn't remember the last time I’d touched his hair, or the last time he’d made me laugh. When I was in Manchester doing voiceovers for four days, I must have listened to it fifteen times. Sometimes I didn’t even listen to the words; John sounded so much like Miles, it hurt. It reminded me of him in every way. 

 

_ “Babeh...are you listening to the Beatles?”  _ he asked with a skeptical edge. 

 

_ “Yes…”  _ I mumbled into the phone, guilty. 

 

_ “Miss me already?”  _ he said, soft but teasing. 

 

_ “Miles Kane, don’t you dare mock me. I’m fragile.”  _ I scolded him, my heart soaring at his playfulness. He was happy. 

 

_ “I know lovely, I’m sorry. I wish you were here with us…”  _ he trailed off.

 

It seemed I’d ruined his good mood. Of course Mi would never tell me anything of the sort.  

  
  
  


_ “How’s your boyfriend? Tell him hello for me?”  _ I’d asked, hoping to steer this ship to calmer waters. Mostly so I wouldn't cry. 

 

_ “Indeed I did, and he said he misses his bambina.”  _ I giggled at the nickname. 

 

Alex had given it to me a while ago, yet another drunken night at the bar. We’d sung Sinatra ‘till the lights came on. Bambina Belmonte he’d called me.

 

_ “Well you can promise him I’ll cook for you guys whenever I get there.”  _ If anyone loved my cooking more than Mi, it was Alex. 

 

_ “Don't talk about such things! I’m already starving over here.” _

 

_ “Airplane food not doing it for you?”  _

 

_ “No, and the little prince is passed out, and I don't know where his car keys are.”  _

 

_ “Doesn’t he have a girlfriend, there should _ **so** _ be food in the house!”  _

 

If I knew Taylor well, she had the kitchen stocked with everything from asparagus to animal crackers. 

 

_ “That's a bit sexist inn’ it?”  _ Mi laughed at me. 

 

_ “Not when a girl’s hungry its not.”  _

 

_ “True, I’ll allow it.”  _ he said, matter of fact. 

 

_ “I’m sorry baby, you know I’d make you something if i were there. Even if it meant knocking down the neighbors door.”  _

 

_ “How I miss ya darlin…”  _ he drawled. I could tell he was remembering my antics from long ago, a smile in his voice. 

 

 

* * *

 

  
  


The first time I met Pauline, I was an absolute wreck. Mi had been out all day. Gone to see Alex, doing errands; things that I was in no state of mind to tag along for. 

 

Miles had asked me to meet his mother. And I was terrified. 

 

Miles and I are both only children with single mothers, but his relationship with Pauline, is way different than the one I have with Donna. Miles and his mother are best friends, they confide in each other, talk at least once a week, and share everything. So I had no doubt that before I even met her, she knew everything about me, down to how “cute” my snoring was.

 

It’s not cute. And I’d felt like crawling under a rock. 

 

I’d desperately wanted to impress her- even though Mi insisted that she’d love me to bits- so I told him I’d cook dinner; my grandpa Belmonte’s Sunday sauce, with short ribs. I’d spent the majority of the week obsessing about it, making sure the meat was marbled, worrying if the sausage was too spicy, picking out the right wine. I was convinced it had to be perfect, even though it was just the three of us. This woman was entrusting me with her son. Okay, I’m a bit dramatic. But with someone like Miles, could you blame me? The boy is loved by all; and now here I am, claiming to love him more than anyone? Ever? How could I ever deign to be worthy of this solar flare of a man that’s….unbelievably mine. 

 

I was stirring the sauce when Mi had texted me. 

  
  


**_Mi_ **

_ Got me old lady! Be there in 20!  _

_ PS- don’t worry. I love u  _

  
  


He always knew what to say. But he also had horrible timing, because I was still in sweats and an old Guns and Roses shirt. I needed a wardrobe change stat. I turned the burner off, and lifted the giant pot away from the potential flame, and that’s when I realized...

 

I didn’t have Parmesan. 

 

If you know anything about Italian American cooking, you know how important cheese is. And I had forgotten it. The finishing note to the whole dish. 

 

_ “Shit. Shit shit shit.”  _

 

I kept telling myself to not panic, but I’m not a very convincing motivator. Especially in my own head. I ran through all the places I could possibly go, and be back in less than 20 minutes...

 

The Farmers market had shut down at noon. The Specialty market was closed on Sundays. Tesco only has the powdered stuff, and was way too far to go now. 

 

So what was I, the fuck to do?

 

Get all my cussing out, and then come up with a plan, that's what. And boy was it a brilliant plan. 

 

I hadn’t met many of the neighbors, so going door to door was going to be awkward, and embarrassing. But there I was, apron splattered with tomato sauce, my hands smelling like garlic, going door to door on a Sunday, looking for Parmesan cheese. To say I looked crazy, and maybe homeless, was an understatement. 

 

I got no answer on the first three doors, probably because I looked like I was running from the cops and needed somewhere to hide. The fourth door was an elderly couple- Mr. and Mrs. Temple, I had come to learn- who were kind enough to offer me some gouda, but that's definitely not what I needed. The fifth door gave me no luck either, some rich trust fund kid, who obviously only consumed beer to sustain himself. I was starting to think this mission was hopeless, but I tried the sixth door anyway. 

 

I was greeted by a very large woman. And when I say large I mean tall, and burley. At first I was thoroughly put off, thinking she was gonna punt me back to the states where I belonged, the look on her face unamused. As soon as I open my mouth, I start rambling in my panic. 

 

_ “Hi! My name’s Essi- I mean Stella, I live upstairs you see with my boyfriend. He’s British too. I mean I’m, obviously not but you are! Anyway his mother’s coming over for dinner and I was wondering if you could maybe help me out, I’ve forgotten Parmesan you see, and it's only the most important thing i could have forgotten, and everywhere is closed, and Tesco only has the gross powdered sawdust kind, and I've already knocked on every door in this complex, and I was wondering if you had any.”  _

 

By the end I was slumped against her door frame, huffing like I had run a marathon. Really I was just panicking and the stress was steadily rising. She looked at me, still unamused. I stared back, pleading with my eyes for cheese like a little mouse at her door. 

 

Slowly, the corners of her mouth lifted, and her dark blue eyes softened. I let the tension drain from my shoulders slightly. She opened the door a little wider and gestured inside. 

 

“Come on in, I’ve got that and a few more things you might need.” 

 

I knew I should have been skeptical, but I didn't have time to be cautious, and beggars can’t be choosers. As it turned out, Beth was an Executive chef at a Mediterranean place in town, but loved to cook all sorts of things- including Italian food- at home. She piled my arms with a loaf of quality bread from a friends bakery, her favorite fig jam in a small bowl, and slices of cured meat she sold at the restaurant. Lastly but not least, she handed me a chunk of parmigiano reggiano, that she insisted I keep. 

 

_ “You can repay me by sending over some of your sauce.”  _ she’d smiled as she opened the door for me once more. 

 

_ “Absolutely! Thank you so much again, I don’t know what I would have-”  _

 

Backing out of the door, I had hit something solid, my feet stumbling in an effort to turn around. 

 

I feel myself tumbling backward.

 

I clutch onto my loot for dear life. Even if I cracked my skull open, this dinner would be perfect.

 

I’m suddenly still, mid air. Not falling anymore, and I’m so relieved, I open my eyes. 

 

And there, the most handsome upside down face I’d ever seen appeared smiling at me. 

 

_ “Stella love, wha ya doin’ down there?” _ Mi giggled.

 

_ “Trying to save dinner.”  _

 

 

* * *

 

 

  
Sometimes I still believed Pauline thought I was crazier than her son; Coming out of a strangers apartment clad in my jams, carrying a whole meal in my arms. But she had just laughed, worried that was all we were having for dinner. I was happy to tell her no, that I’d actually tried this time around, and she wouldn’t be stuck with a feast from the neighbor’s fridge. 

 

Since then, I’d shared many of my innermost thoughts, worries, and joys with that woman. She was the first person I’d told when I got the call back for this show. Admittedly, I’m pathetic. I know. Can’t even call my own mother first, knowing what she’d say. She loved Miles, but she’s been skeptical of my decisions ever since Christmas. 

 

_ “How are you and Miles gonna make that work?”  “Are you financially stable enough for this?” “Do you think he’s having an affair with that friend of his?”  _

 

Honestly if they were, I’d ask why they’d been holding out on me for so long. Miles was the king of my heart, but I had eyes. Alex was one of the most beautiful men I’d ever seen. Mi was obviously smitten with him, and if his sexuality were to sway, I’d know why. Sometimes when we were all together, I wouldn't put it past people to think we were polyamorous. I held Al’s hand, kissed his cheek. He took care of me like he would his girl, and I looked after him like I would Miles. 

 

So nothing of the sort would surprise me. Or at least that’s what I’d told her when she asked, proceeding to shriek into the receiver at me for being so crude. But I didn’t care. Alex was like the brother I never asked for but really needed. And Miles loved us both, I’d say, in equal measure. 

 

The taxi was driving me over the water to my little spot in the city. My little empty spot...a small blip on a map of millions of more important people, and things. I wasn’t bothered with the limited space, or the sparse furnishings, or even the giant adventure that would change my life forever, just on the horizon. Its that Mi wasn’t there to share it with me. To revel in my excitement. To run lines with me till the sun rose again. To sing me to sleep when I worried tomorrow would bring my inevitable failure. To tell me to snap out of it, and get my shit together. Knowing I had to do it on my own now...well that was just another uphill battle. 

 

I took a deep breath and pressed my head to the warm glass. It was getting hotter, the nights still balmy and the air thick well into the night. I decided to fix this before it got worse, and started affecting my work. I needed to find a way to fill the hollow spot in my chest. I looked down at my phone, and scrolled through my songs. I changed it from “Things We Said Today” to “Barely Legal” by The Strokes. It was a happy memory. Alex and Mi dancing with each other In the kitchen, pulling me off the couch to serenade me “properly”. Salt rimmed kisses and tequila. Dancing shoes, and tangled legs. Bated breath and burning cheeks. 

 

It almost made me miss him more. 

 

But the song still made me smile, at a time where I didn’t think I could even muster a smirk. So...baby steps. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading lovelies. This story means so much to me, and its come from humble beginnings. Drop me a line, as usual. I love hearing your feedback!


	5. Part 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In dreams they came.

## Part 5

_Miles held my hand loose, I could feel the calluses on the tips of his fingers, laced with mine. We had been out all afternoon, exploring SoHo, getting coffee, and hunting down vintage shops. Showing Miles all my favorite spots made me feel like a true, New York native. I was riding high on his excitement, and I didn’t want it to end; I wanted to keep him here with me. Holding my hand like it was second nature; his thumb brushing the inside of my wrist, subconsciously._

****

_“Do you wanna go back to my place?” I asked._

****

_I was getting bolder._

****

_“You sure? It’s still pretty early.” Miles had a gentle smile on his face, his eyebrows raised as if to ask if this is_ really _what I wanted._

****

_“I’m very sure.” I nodded once, unable to contain the smile that broke through my mask of confidence._

****

_Miles shifted in front of me, halting my steps with his hands curled around my hips, thumbs slipping into the belt loops of my tight black jeans._

****

_“I think ya just want me all to ye’self.” His cheeky statement made my face feel hot._

****

_“And if I did? Would that be so bad?”_

****

_“Not at all love. I’m yours for the takin’.”_

****

_“Be careful, that might come back to bite you.”_

****

_“Lookin’ forward to it.”_

****

_He leaned down to kiss me then. It was gentle at first, his lips pressing full on mine. I went to pull away, thinking that’s all there was, but then his tongue whipped out and licked my bottom lip, beckoning me closer again._

****

_That made me shiver, and I accidentally brought my hips closer to his, my body running on instinct now._

****

_This man was making it really hard not to jump him right there on the sidewalk._

****

_“Come on lover boy, I’ll make us dinner.” I kissed him again, long and slow this time, in the middle of the sidewalk. Passers by were ignored, the world fading in and out until all I could smell was his cologne, his skin. The silk of his shirt gliding under my fingers, the sting of his chain cold against his neck._

****

_I didn’t really want to go through the formal event of making dinner. What I wanted, was to throw him on my bed and have my way with him...if we even made it to the bed. But I knew this had to be different than all my times before._

****

_Miles was something new for me. He wasn’t inconsequential. He wasn’t a self absorbed brat with a macho man attitude. He wasn’t living his life so fast that he forgot my name. He didn’t treat me like a possession. Miles was my equal, always, even when I knew he was floating so high above me._

****

_He had never been to my place, and I was a little bit nervous. I knew the dishes were clean, and my living room hadn’t been used in a while, since I usually spent any free time I had out and about with Mi. My bedroom was a right mess, and I knew it, but if we were taking this any further, he might as well see my natural habitat at its worst. There were probably remnants of the last three outfits I wore strewn about, and I for sure knew there was a dirty bra on my bathroom counter._

****

_I made good on my promise to make dinner, some leftover chicken from last night, thrown in with linguine and some pesto I had made a few days ago. I heard Miles in the other room, rummaging around, his chelsea boots clicking back and forth on the scuffed wood floor._

****

_“What are you doing in there?”_

****

_“Snooping...you have a record player!” He said, suddenly excited beyond reason._

****

_“Yeah, go ahead and put something on!” My collection was small, most of them inherited from my mom, but there were a few gems in there._

****

_“Aaaalready on it.”_

****

_The opening notes to the “Grease” soundtrack began to play. It took me a moment to even believe this is what he’d picked, but the trumpets blaring was all it took for me to start swaying my hips, smiling wide while I stirred the pasta together. I was putting some into two bowls when I felt his arms wrap around my waist from behind, pulling me closer to him as we swayed together. Before I can turn around, I hear Mi in my ear._

****

_“I solve my problems and I see the light,_

_We got a lovin’ thing, we gotta feed it right…”_

****

_Hearing him sing the words to a soundtrack that practically shaped my whole life, sent small shivers through me. The hairs on my arms stood on end._

****

_“That good ‘eh?” Miles leaned up again, looking down on me in his embrace. He brought his hands to my arms, soothing my goosebumps with his thumbs, rubbing back and forth._

****

_“I wasn’t expecting it.”_

****

_I grabbed a fork from the counter, speared a mouthful of pasta, and brought it to Mi’s mouth behind me, my hand hovering under his chin, ready incase this didn’t work out as sexy as I’d planned it._

****

_I try and smile at him, but I can’t help but giggle a little, which makes Mi giggle too. And at this point in my life, his giggle is the last thing I could say no to._

****

_Through the laughter, he manages to make little humming sounds as he chews. His eyes pop wider, and he nods in approval, pointing to his mouth._

****

_“That good, eh?” I mimic him, my eyebrow raising._

****

_His smile was slow and sweet, finishing what was left of his mouthful._

****

_“Pretty boss, yeah.”_

****

_Moving the coffee table across the room, we ate on the floor that afternoon, Miles and I on either side of the record player. We took turns picking records to listen to, his favorite being Diana Ross’ “Why Do Fools Fall In Love” I’d inherited, with the fold out cover. I learned he loved the sounds of Motown, R &B, anything with a wailing guitar and a strong female lead checked the box for him. He told me how the genre greatly influenced his songwriting, and the way he played guitar. We swayed and sang, and laughed in the light of the setting sun. _

****

_“Come on love.” Mi rose from his spot, holding his hand out to me. His hips swayed to the beat, pulling me to my feet._

****

_We had put on Pet Sounds by the Beach Boys, “Don’t Talk” playing softly in the background. His hands came around my waist, resting on my lower back, and my arms clasped behind his neck, playing with the baby strands at his nape. Being this close to him made my heart beat faster. I could smell him through his cologne, that musky lived in scent that accompanies every man. Only Mi’s scent was different, like sleeping naked on clean sheets, with the window open during a thunderstorm. He was electricity, and earth, and fresh air._

****

_Jesus. How was he real?_

****

_“Miles?” I asked, burying my face in his chest, suddenly shy. He leaned in once more, and pressed his face into my hair._

****

_“Hm?” he hummed, leaving lingering kisses to the top of my head._

****

_“Are you my boyfriend?”_

****

_I regretted it the moment it left my lips. The only thing I could do, was to stay put, and wait for the outcome, or he’d think I was a coward. Neither of us moved out of position, just Mi, gently leading me to the sway of the slow melody._

****

_“I’d like to be, if you’d let me.” I felt him whisper against my hair._

****

_He stilled, and I followed. We pulled away at the same time, but Miles still held me close in his long arms._

****

_“I’m sorry for asking…” I breathed, shaking my head. I didn’t want him to have to answer out of obligation, and this is exactly what that felt like._

****

_“No love, don’t be! You actually beat me to it, I was going to ask you the same thing.”_

****

_“If I was your boyfriend?”_

****

_“No, silly…”_

****

_He leaned back so his face was level with mine, and brought one hand up to brush my dark hair behind my ear, cupping the side of my face. His eyes were warm gazing into mine, his smile that crooked crescent I loved so much._

****

_“I haven’t had a boyfriend since sophomore year of high school.” I admitted, wincing._

****

_“That's quite a long while love…should I be worried?” Miles laughed. I knew he was joking, but I still had to think about it. Should he be worried? I had nothing to hide from him._

****

_“He was a dick...a giant dickhead.” I said with a huff, remembering just how much that had affected me._

****

_“Ruined things for ya then?” he asked, giving me a little nod._

****

_He had no idea how on the nose he was._

****

_“A little bit yeah.” I scrunch my nose, nodding back._

****

_“Well, do you think I’m a dickhead?” He chuckled._

****

_I was honestly shocked. Miles was a dream compared to every man I'd ever met._

****

_“No! Of course not...that's absolutely the opposite of you. You’re an angel.” I finished with a laugh, though it wasn’t because I was joking. I was astonished that I believed every word I was saying. I brought my hands around to his face, my thumbs brushing at his temples, his cheeks._

****

_“You are...so much more, than what you give yourself credit for.”_

****

_“And so are you love. I mean look ‘atcha!”_

****

_His face lit up then, and he took my hand from his face, and led me in a whirlwind twirl. My heart was instantly lighter, and the laughter escaping my lips had me gasping.  My hair whipped around my face, tickling my cheeks, so reminiscent of his whispers in my ear. He brought our hands down, and pulled me flush against him again. I'm sure he could feel my heart thudding against his own chest._

****

_“Stella love, you're not just an absolute stunner. You love old black and white films, and your addiction to sweets rivals Willy Wonka. You're a damn resourceful cook, and ya always dress to impress. You can imitate the most English dialects I've ever heard, slang included! You’re a closet romantic, and your music taste is perpetually stuck in the 80 's. You care too much...about everything and everyone, and I love that about you. But I wanna be the one to take care of you, when you forget you need lookin’ after too.”_

****

_I was now well, and truly lost. Those brown eyes the only thing keeping me from floating away on a fantasy. That’s what he was._

****

_“You’re unreal…”_

****

_“ s’that love?” Miles searched my eyes._

****

_I hadn’t said that out loud had I?_

****

_I opened my mouth, but no sound came._

****

_“Estella?”_

****

_He was talking to me, but it was getting quieter, farther away. My name echoed in my own head._

****

_He held me, but I lost all sensation, my brain was heavy and I felt like I was free falling with no one there to catch me. I panicked, my limbs began to numb, and my head shook in protest._

****

_“No, not yet. Not now!”_

****

_My vision began to blur, my apartment disappearing into swirls of smoke, until all I could see was darkness, cold and all encompassing._

****

_“M-Miles?”  I called out into the dark, my own echo the only response._

****

_Where had he gone?_

****

_Where was I?_

 

_The darkness was too still, and my legs moved me forward on muffled steps, desperate to find a way out. On and on and on..._

****

_I stood stock still when I heard voices. Loud chatters, echoing in the empty. Clinking glasses, a bass drum beat. I could feel it in the floor beneath me._

****

_“Come on dahrlin’ it's okay. I’ve gotcha.”_

****

_I knew that voice. But it wasn’t Mi._

****

_“Alex?” I whispered, my own voice booming inside my head._

****

_I felt a hand grab mine, lacing our fingers. His grip was tight, urgent._

****

_“Shhh love, don’t cry.”_

****

_I wasn’t crying, was I? I grazed my cheek with my fingers. Dry._

****

_“Alex where are you?” I could only whisper, my voice wouldn't get any louder, no matter how desperately I tried._

****

_“We’ll find him, don’t you worry. I’m so sorry bambina its all my fault.”_

****

_“I don’t understand! I can’t find you! It's so dark…” I choked out. Desperate for him to listen, to make sense._

****

_“Look at me Stella!”_

****

_I felt a pair of warm hands grip my face, gentle but shaky. All of a sudden he’s there in front of me. His sweet eyes were wild with worry, furrowing his perfect brow._

****

_“Al?” relief rushed in my veins. The darkness instantly replaced with something familiar. Someone I could trust._

****

_“Yeah its me…” he smiled at me. It was weak, overshadowed by sorrow, regret._

****

_“Where’s Miles?”_

****

_“He’s outside love, let's get you out of here, fix your dress.”_

****

_The blur around me receded, and now I could see more. People everywhere, bodies swaying and bumping in the strobing light. We were by a wall in the back of the room, no one came near, like there was a force field around the two of us. I looked down at my dress, a red flowy gauze, ripped at the sleeve, hanging around my waist. Alex’s motorcycle jacket tucked around me, shrouding the dress in its broad shoulders and hanging zippers._

****

_I looked up into his face again, his eyes assessing my condition. His right eye began growing purple the longer I stared. What in the fuck had happened? And where was Miles?_

****

_His thumb traced my eyebrow, soothing me immensely._

****

_“It looks like we’re gonna have matching accessories.” he grimaced, not meeting my eyes._

****

_“What do you mean?” I was still so confused. I just wanted Miles back, and I wanted to go home...wherever that was._

****

_“No love, you’re beautiful as the day I met ya. Though to be fair I was beyond pissed.” He chuckled._

****

_Was he actually joking with me right now? With a shiner forming, and my dress torn to bits in the middle of a dancefloor?_

****

_He let go of my face to pull me in, his jacket and his arms wound around me like a shield._

****

_“It’s okay, just a little longer.” he said, moving with me through the crowd, protecting me from the world all around._

****

_“Just a little longer…”_

 

 

* * *

 

 

 ****  
** **I shot up in my bed, a thudding panic in my chest. I felt around the sheets- an instinct- even though I knew I was alone. I was sticky with sweat from my dream, the muggy room not aiding in stopping my adrenaline from pumping. I moved to grab the glass of water on my tiny bedside table, and end up shoving an envelope to the floor that falls with a thud to the wood panels.

****

I leaned over to pick it up, knowing its contents well.

****

I tilt the envelope out into my hand, and palm the key that falls out.

****

I’d been in New York for a month now. Rehearsals were going to schedule, and I was falling more and more in love with my character Cecile, or _“Lefoux”_ as she’s seen as for most of the production. _“Is He Dead”_ was a lost work of the great Mark Twain, and had only been published for the theatre recently, so it was fresh and new and fun for everyone. The cast was really starting to feel like family. But I never really shared their company outside of the theatre. Sure I got invited to nights out on the town, lunch dates in between rehearsals, but I mostly avoided any outside contact. My fear of becoming attached was beginning to show here, and I knew I would end up breaking my own heart in the end, when I went back home to Islington. Back to our house. Back to our life.

****

I’d missed Miles endlessly. It had only been a month, but _The Last Shadow Puppets_ were practically done recording, writing and rewriting lyrics, mixing and rehearsing their new record: “ _Everything You’ve Come To Expect”_. He called me nearly every day, unless I decided I missed him more and called first. We talked while we ate, while we showered, while we watched our shows together. Miles almost dropped his phone in the urinal at the studio once, and I must have laughed for at least five minutes, listening to the clang of the phone against the porcelain, and his whispered curses in the background. He would play little snippets of songs on his guitar, review lyrics with me, send me demos and silly videos of the band every now and then. I practiced Lefoux’s French accent on him, making him giggle when I messed up, slipping into Italian instead. Telling him about the play made me more excited for him to actually see it. I’d never done any sort of comedy before, nothing really seriously funny. This was a comedy of errors if there ever was one, brilliantly heartfelt and cliched and wonderful.

****

I still twirled the key in between my fingers, its metallic scent mixing with the sweat in my palm. About a week ago I called Mi and Alex answered instead. I hadn’t talked to him since being here, maybe a manic hello screamed across the room when Mi and I were talking, but that was it. They were out for coffee, Miles was ordering, so Al and I talked for a good twenty minutes, just asking me about being back “home”.

****

“I miss you both...I wish you were here. Even you and your stupid face.”

****

“I can tell, you sound absolutely dreadful. Are you sure you’re okay?”

****

I couldn't help but think he was right. I sounded desperate, and it wasn’t funny anymore. He said he was determined to cheer me up; he’d find a way. I told him unless he was a miracle worker, only their presence could do that.

****

“Take care little love. Be safe...alright?”

****

“I will. Promise you, always.”

****

“Love ya doll.”

****

“You too babe. Now put my man on the phone, damnit.”

****

I had gotten a small package this morning. Inside, a note from Alex, and his spare key swaddled in bubble wrap. The note read:

****

_Bambina,_

****

_In case you want to throw an obscene party, or I don’t know...use the guest room. Utilities are switched on, just in case._

_-Alex_

****

Thinking now back to my dream- my memories, really- I knew why Alex had appeared out of the darkness. He was my savior once upon a time, when Mi had been away. Had been there to watch over me, to bring me back home. And he was here for me still, even now, clear across the country, in the form of this little key.

 

So many memories of Miles and I were attached to that guest room in Al's apartment. So many nights spent with all of us watching movies, Miles trying to cheat at poker (unsuccessfully), Alex and I eating ice cream out of the carton together. _Properly_ meeting Taylor for the first time, my first guitar lesson, the first time I heard Mi's music as he sang along to every word like he'd wrote them yesterday.  ****  
** **

 

I got up, grabbed more water from the kitchenette, and moved to lay back in bed. My phone sat on the bed beside me, and I was ever so tempted to call Mi. The picture of us on my lock screen taunting me. I missed his hands combing through my long hair, lulling me to sleep, his warm body pressed up against mine in the night. I missed his bedroom voice, that low, sleepy sing song. Song…

****

Grabbing my phone, I scrolled through my songs, and found one that reminded me most of tonight. The one I'd  been thinking about since I saw Alex’s face in my dreams.

  


_About as subtle as an earthquake I know_

_My mistakes were made for you_

_And in the back room of a bad dream she came_

_And whisked me away, enthused_

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovelies. Its been a couple weeks I think, but here's another chapter I hope you enjoyed. Hopefully it wasn't too confusing, but this was a vision I'd had for a while. I love any feedback or questions, drop me a line anytime!  
> P.S- Happy Birthday Sir Paul McCartney x


	6. Part 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A deep, shared past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here is a giant disclaimer. A long and arduous trigger warning. This chapter contains sensitive subject matter pertaining to women. I am so reluctant to give away anything pertaining to the plot, but I feel the need to tell all my readers that I am understanding of the subject matter. Through my own, and others shared experiences, I still don’t feel qualified enough to write about this properly. I wanted to bring attention to it though, and the emotional toll behind it. I understand how strongly some women feel about this subject and all I can say is that I hope I did it justice. I also understand that some women go through it alone, and most are already aware what’s happening to them. I understand that not all men are as understanding as this dream I’ve cooked up in my own fantasy. I understand that some people don’t ever recover emotionally or physically, and I sincerely sympathize. I know the love of a good man or woman cannot heal all wounds, and that its not healthy to rely on someone else for your own happiness. Its not always this traumatic, and sometimes, its life or death. Everyone’s experience is different, under hundreds of different circumstances. In the end, this us only fiction. I write to convey emotion, and to tell a story I feel needs to be told. I love these two characters so much, and I love the love they share. I hope it comes through here. Thank you so much for coming back to this, time and again.

_ “Hi lovely, I just thought I’d call and see how my boys are doing. I hope Al’s feeling better...tell him he’s not allowed to get sick anymore! Make sure he takes it easy, even though I know he doesn’t know how...I’m sorry I didn’t get your call baby. Give me a ring whenever you can. I love you.” _

****

I’d left him a message again on the way to work. We’d been doing this lately, both of us so busy, just missing calls by minutes. The voicemails were piling up. 

****

 I don’t have the heart to delete any of them. 

****

_ “Stella me girl, I need teh stop doin’ this, I’m sorry love. Al and I were in the booth- oh shut it will you? We were not! Sorry- the little lad just can’t behave, anyway call me back babe.”  _

****

_ “Stella me girl, where are ya? I know yehr busy, but I miss yehr voice. Just give me a call when you’re in, yeah? Love ya sweet’art.”  _

****

_ “Sorry, it’s me again. I know we just ‘ung up but I forgot ta tell yeh. You’re me world Stella. G’night gorge.”  _

****

I was sitting in the theatre now, the cushy seat creaking under my weight as I leaned forward, reaching into my duffle bag. We had been doing in house run throughs for the past couple of days. Before, we’d been practicing in studios, doing read throughs, mapping out the blocking of our scenes. But now we had the actual stage to interact with, the set being worked on all around us. The whole production was coming along swimmingly, and I couldn't be more proud of everyone here. Most of us were newcomers, but some were seasoned theatre actors who I would have never imagined I would work with. I was constantly learning new things from my castmates; improv techniques, being conscious of my body while blocking, dialect practice. It all helped me feel more comfortable in this role, like I wasn’t just some imposter living this dream. I kept imagining what Mi’s face would look like when he saw the finished product. Wide eyed, and grinning ear to ear, the twinkling stage light in his eyes was all I’d need to make my heart race right through my chest. 

****

So when I reached for my water bottle, and saw those twinkling eyes looking up at me from my phone screen, I had to think quick. I was  _ not  _ going to miss his call again. I snached the phone from my bag and skipped up the steps of the theatre, trying to find a quiet place. At the top of the stairs, the sound booth door was ajar, so I slipped in, closing the door behind me. It was empty today. We weren’t using mics just yet, so the sound techs wouldn’t be in until next week or so, thankfully. I hadn’t realized in my excitement that it was actually a FaceTime call. I anxiously hit the answer button as I plopped into a spinning chair in the corner, pulling my legs under me to get comfy. 

****

“Miles!” I shouted, only now realizing how quiet it was in the theatre. I squinted, looking out the window, hoping no one heard my small outburst. 

****

“Stella me girl! Yeh look beautiful babe.” he beamed, the angle showed his profile up close, the little wrinkles in the corners of his eyes endlessly endearing. He looked relieved, like he’d been holding his breath until I’d answered. 

****

“Not lookin’ too bad yourself handsome.” I said, wanting to see more of him. He was so close up I could scarcely tell if he was naked in bed or on the toilet.  

****

“I wouldn’t speak too soon.” he squinted, a skeptical look in his eyes. Now I was worried.

****

“Miles…” I drawled out, my breathing halted for a moment. 

****

“Stella love, don’t fret...but dont be mad either?” he stated like a question, a plea. 

****

And then the camera zoomed out. He was outside, green grass all around. His golden chain glistened in the California sun, his breezy, cream linen shirt had the first three buttons undone, as per usual. His toned chest looked tanned, the little hairs there peeking through the v-neck.  But something was definitely different. 

****

“Miles Peter Kane.” 

****

It’s all I could say, my eyes growing wider. 

****

“Do ya like it love?” he smirked, just a little apprehension still gleaming in his eyes. 

****

Mi’s hair was gone. His beautiful, scruffy, rockstar hair was no more. The buzzed shape of his head glared at me against the sunny SoCal backdrop. 

****

In that first instant, I was so upset. I loved Mi, and all his parts, but his hair...that was his identity in a way. He spent so much time on it, it must have taken a lot to just...be rid of it! It scared me just a little, at how drastic the decision, but maybe this was a purposeful change. Maybe this new album was going to bring new beginnings, not just for The Shadow Puppets, but for Al and Mi as individuals. They weren't those baby Beatles anymore. They were men this time around. Fully realized and ready to show the world how gifted they were together. The more I looked, the more it grew on me though. His eyes popped, the deep chocolate color glowing in the sun, making them almost a golden amber. His cheekbones were more prominent now, the scruff on his jaw making him look more mature, sexier. His strong chin and angular nose creating shadows only seen in the moonlight, in a lover’s embrace. The ever present smile made him youthful still, reminded me of the Miles I met in that scummy bar in New York. Reminded me how hopeless I was to resist him. 

****

God, was it sexy. 

****

“I think i've had a revelation.” I whispered in disbelief. 

****

“Wha’s that dahrlin’?” 

****

“You’re sexier than I ever imagined.”

****

The cackle he let out made my heart gush. I giggled along with him, wishing he was here to twirl me in his arms. 

****

“I wanna touch it more than anything. Bet its fuzzy.” I smirked, wrinkling my nose, imagining the feeling. 

****

“It’s a smidge easier to manage now. I’m a wash n’ go kinda gal now luv.” he exaggerated his accent with the last bit, making me smile, huffing a laugh through my nose. He knew his voices got me everytime, the kid in him coming out just to cheer me up.  

****

“God I miss your voice.” I sighed, edging my face closer to the screen, hoping that would somehow bring me closer to him.  Also because it was easier to whisper into the receiver this way. 

****

“I miss a lot more than yehr voice, babe.” he winked at me, smiling. I knew he was suggesting something way naughtier than I was ready for.

****

“Oh hush-” I smirked, my eyelashes grazing my cheeks as I blushed. Looking him in the eye now would be too much. 

****

“-I’m sorry, I just can’t stand this phone tag thing.” I twirled my finger around the end of my ponytail, shaking my head at how ridiculous I was being. 

****

“I know dahrlin’, I’ve been terrible this week, I’m so sorreh.” he said, hand skimming over his head, he looked up into the camera, eyes sad, weary through his long lashes. My heart sank to my feet at the thought of making him feel that way. 

****

“ No, no! I know you’re busy, love.” I tried to remedy. 

****

“I promised I’d always have time for ya babe…” his smile was wonky, lopsided, but still there. 

****

“Well we’re talking now aren’t we?” I said softly, trying to bring back his mood from mere seconds ago. His smiled mirrored mine now, all crescent shaped and glowing. 

****

“Yeah...why yeh whisperin’? He whispered back at me.

****

I giggled then, huddled in my little swivel chair. I leaned over the controls, switching the camera view so Mi could see the stage through the little window box.  

****

“I’m at rehearsal, but I’m not in this scene. I snuck away really fast...I’m in the sound booth.” 

****

“My sneaky girl.” he shook his head, whispering conspiratorially with me. I switched the camera back so we were face to face again.  

****

“Just givin’ you a little sneak peek...so besides the hair, what’s new? How’s your morning handsome?” 

****

“Better, now i’ve seen ya...eeeh made breakfast, just sittin’ with the lads. Had a big night out last night, did something that’d make you right jealous I think.” he looked smug, stroking his chin between his thumb and pointer finger. 

****

“And what might that be mister?” I said, raising my eyebrows in disbelief. Then again, knowing him and Al, I’d probably wish I’d been there. 

****

“You’ll just have to wait and see.” he said, bouncing like a little kid, too excited to contain his excitement. 

****

“Oh, so there’s video evidence.” 

****

“Absolutely.”

****

“Well good, I’ll get to laugh at whatever idiocy you were up to for years to come.” I said through the giggles, entirely serious. 

****

“Aaaay not funneh.” he furrowed his brow playfully, pointing at me through the screen. 

****

“How’s the little prince doing? Better I’m assuming?” I asked after my laughter died down. Al had had the stomach flu last week, so they put a halt on production and promo for a while. By the sounds of last night, he was probably feeling himself again. 

****

“Nursed him back to health meself!” Mi announced, proud of his caretaking skills. 

****

“I’m sure you did, you’re a very good nursemaid.” I cooed. 

****

“Too right.” his eyes softened then, probably thinking about one of the worst weeks we’d had back home. 

****

“I took care of yeh proper, didn’t I?” he asked, his voice a little hesitant. 

****

“No one better.” I assured him, my smile soft. That week was when I knew Mi was with me for the long haul. Where I was meant to be, was with him. 

****

 

_ My head felt like an overfilled balloon. The pressure had been building for the last day or so,  _

_ and I knew the climax of this headache was coming. I just wasn’t expecting to be this  _ ill.  _ I was taking the tube back, to take the bus back home from an audition (that I so obviously bombed). I would have given anything for Mi to just pick me up in a car, or get a taxi. Anything to not be responsible for myself right now. But I was stubborn, and determined to do this by myself. That and Mi was currently out of town. _

 

_  It was Alex’s birthday week, and Taylor and him had spontaneously planned a group trip to Paris for just a handful of us. I, of course, had this audition planned a month ago, and really wanted to follow through. My agent had helped me book it, and letting her down only made my stomach sink more than letting myself down. I had told Mi it was fine for him to go on without me, but only if he promised to bring me back an awful tourist gift. Like an Eiffel Tower keychain, or an oversized t shirt with PARIS spelled out in baguettes over my tits. Something classy.  _

 

_ But all I could think about right now was bed. Bed and tea.The familiar text chime sounded from my purse. I stuck my hand inside, fumbling around with the contents but had no luck. I gave up the hunt- I could respond when I got inside. My head was spinning, and my stomach was turning in on itself as I walked up our street from the stop. The pain in my spine was so intense, the vertigo started to kick in. My vision was tunneling, and I could feel my knees giving way underneath me. I leaned up against the brick of the building, the January air whipping against my face, calming the nausea rolling through my body like goosebumps. My breaths were short and shallow, like gunfire, one after another. I tried to slow my breathing, but it just brought the nausea to the forefront.  _

 

_ I swallowed the sudden gush of saliva that flooded at the sides of my mouth, willing my body to wait until I was home. Inside. In the bathroom. Alone. Thankfully, our place was only a two story walk up, and I made it in just a few, slow, agonizing steps. Each footfall on the concrete jostling my insides like a bucket of nails, all askew and jagged. I failed opening the door about four times before the key slotted in the lock. My body was running on autopilot now, and I made a beeline to the bedroom, dropping everything along the way. I shed my peacoat halfway off my body as my knees collided with the tile of the bathroom floor, emptying my guts into the porcelain.   _

 

_ My body was convulsing with every heave, and my vision clouded with white bursts, like the worst kind of lens flare in the corner of my eyes. For a second, I wished the tunnel vision would come back. I was clearly not alright. _

 

_ I sat, my hands holding my long hair back, just trying to breathe. Usually after I puked, everything felt a smidge better. What confused me was the full force this pain was still running at. My head was still pounding, so much so I could hear the blood rushing through my veins with each thump of my heart. My stomach still felt like it was rejecting everything i’ve ever fed it. Reprimanding me for just existing, it seemed. I heaved again, my throat burning from the acid, and the muscles in my lower back straining from the force. Sweat gathered in a sheen on my forehead, but I wasn’t sure if it was because I had a fever, or because I was still wearing two sweaters and a woolen coat.  _

 

_ I got a break from the onslaught of heaving, so I peeled the layers off, carelessly tossing them to the floor. My first instinct was to get in the shower. I felt horrendous, and I just wanted to wash away the sickness somehow. I couldn’t shower cold, so I set a lukewarm temp on the lever.  My vision went blurry,shifting side to side as I tried to concentrate on the little ‘H’ etched in the shiny chrome. This honestly felt like the first and last time I tried an edible, and I was not up for reliving that experience. Hopefully this time, I wouldn't wake up naked in the bathtub with my cat.  _

 

_ Then I saw the blood.  _

 

_ A stream of crimson trailing down my leg.  _

 

_ This must be why.  _

 

_ I was usually in pretty bad shape during this time of the month. My migraines flared up without fail, usually making me bedridden for a day or so. No lights, no sound. The pain was guaranteed to make me sick at least once or twice. But this was so much worse. I’d never felt all these things at once before. My body felt like it was turning itself inside out. I felt my lower back twinge then, a searing burn ripping through my nerves. I knelt down slowly, my knees slipping a little on the tile, as I braced myself.  _

 

_ The blood was still running down my leg, swirling plumes in the water around me. _

 

_ I was about 5 days late if I really thought about it. The iron pills are so unpredictable.  _

 

_ Panic steadily grew in my gut, making me feel hollow. Deep breaths didn’t come easy, but its all I could do to ease the pain. My vision was blurring in and out again, so when the pain in my back subsided, I got up and out before I couldn’t move at all. I felt a poignant pressure run through my abdomen, more blood, clotted and bright red, dripping, stark against the inside of my thigh. I snatched a tissue off the counter, tried to wipe away the stream as best I could, and tossed it in the toilet. My knees knocked together as I grabbed my towel off the rack.  _

 

_ Putting in a tampon was the furthest thing from my mind now. Too much work. I grabbed a sanitary pad from under the sink, and made my way to the bedroom, pad in hand, towel clutched to my chest. Everything felt like it was running past me at double time, all my moves dramatic and rushed. In reality, I was going as slow as my body allowed, afraid to move my eyeballs from the floor. I made it to our dresser drawers, Mi’s boxers neatly rolled next to my cotton and lace undies. Seeing his things reminded me that he wasn’t here. I was doing this alone. _

 

_ I’d been doing it alone for my entire adult life, but I’d gotten used to having him there with me. Someone who cared for me, someone to cry to when being a woman was just too hard.  _

 

_ I've never needed him more than in this moment.  _

 

_ A small part of me wished I'd just gone to Paris. Fuck the audition. Fuck responsibility. Fuck productivity. Fuck this dead end career that was slowly killing me, and my passion. I wanted to be with Mi, drinking champagne, eating cheese I can’t pronounce, exploring the city, and hanging out with our friends. The people I loved.  _

 

_ Another part of me- a smaller, much more reluctant part- knew this would have happened either way. The location didn’t matter. If I was there now, I’d probably be ruining all the fun, worrying not just Mi but everybody else. Al deserved the hugest of celebrations, and I was glad I wasn’t there to spoil anything.  _

 

_ I managed with my underwear, leaving my towel to rot on the floor. I couldn’t be bothered.  _

 

_ I collapsed onto the bed, my head aimlessly slinking around to find my pillow. The covers didn’t matter, I just needed to close my eyes. As soon as my aches and pains subsided, my head started to pound in excess. Each rush of blood was like a muted gong, sounding in my brain. A loud vibration settled itself behind my eyelids, as I strained to keep them shut. I thought about getting up. I probably needed water, painkillers, maybe my phone in case I was actually dying. But laying still was too much of a temptation. So I sat, listening to the silence. The very blood in my veins felt like poison, every muscle infected with an anxious burn, a throbbing tension.  _

 

_ Too soon, it all faded though. The blackness was soothing, the throb in my head becoming a distant memory, the squeezing, stabbing pain, only a lingering scratch on the outside of my consciousness.  _

 

_ When I awoke, it wasn’t in my own bed, and the room was dark except for a small hum of light coming through the blinds. My head felt like it’d been hit with a baseball bat, but it wasn’t the searing agony from before. I blinked once, twice, just to get my bearings, and cancel out the fuzz of sleep.  _

 

_ The sheets around my waist were blue, not white.  _

 

_ I was hooked up to an IV. _

 

_ And Miles was in a chair next to me, asleep, resting his head against his hand on the armrest, clutching his phone.  _

 

_ He looked exhausted, his brow furrowed, lip twitched up in discomfort. In true Miles style though, he was still dressed to the nines. Tight black trousers hugged his thighs, his silky polka dot blouse tucked into them, my favorite tailored jacket folded in his lap. I followed his crossed legs to his feet, clad in his alligator boots, mustard colored socks peeking out the top where his pant leg rode up.  _

 

_ I knew why I was here...I think. But how did I get here? _

 

_ “Mi.” I croaked, my throat still raw.  _

 

_ He must have been awake the whole time, because his eyes shot open, body jumping from his slumped position in the chair, phone forgotten on the seat.  _

 

_ “Stella, Sweetheart, there ya are.” he cooed. He sat facing me on the bed, his strong hands roaming my face, frantic; the cool touch of his rings ran a path down my nape, making me shiver in delight, relief at his presence. Touching me, telling me he’s here.  _

 

_ “What happened? Why are you back so soon?” I brought one hand up to cup his, the IV dangling from my arm knocking against his leg.  _

 

_ “I tried callin’ ya dahrlin’, but ya never picked up. Seems like a hundred times...I called Beth down the way, asked her to check on you. Left your keys in the door love.” He smiled a little at me, despite the worry I could hear in his voice; See in his eyes. _

 

_ “I tend to do that a lot.” I confirmed, nodding guiltily along.  _

 

_ “Yeah, but this time I wasn’t there to lock up after ya. Little whirlwind.” he said fondly, brushing his thumbs across my cheeks. _

 

_ “Yeh remember what happened? She said you’d been sick love, says the flats a mess. Blood everywhere. Thas’ why they got ya all hooked up.” _

 

_ “Yeah I started my period like I usually do, but it was way worse than I’ve ever had it. I kept going in n’ out, got sick a couple of times. I must have passed out.”  _

 

_ Miles sat back from me, his hands trailing down the bed to my own, lacing my fingers with his. His face was sympathetic now, like he was sorry for something. Ready to apologize.  _

 

_ “I got on a plane as soon as I could love, got ‘ere just as you were gettin’ done.” he brought my hand to his lips, inhaling deep as he kissed it.  _

 

_ “Estella did you know?” he mumbled against our clasped hands. His eyes desperate, questioning.  _

 

_ “Know what?” I asked, suspicious now.  _

 

_ Why was he acting this way? _

 

_ “Stella…” he sighed, breathless, quite.  _

 

_ “Miles.” I countered, my forehead creased in confusion.  _

 

_ “Stella me girl.”  _

 

_ He didn’t know what to say now. I could tell. Something was wrong here. He wouldn't be this cryptic with me, ever. He rested his head against our joined hands.  _

 

_ “What’s wrong? Please.” _

 

_ I wanted nothing more than for him to stop hiding from me. My hand was still in his, pressed against his mop of hair, impossibly soft against my fingers. I brushed my thumb against his, trying to coax him into telling me whatever seemed so hard to get across. Slowly, his head lifted, the deep brown of his eyes locked on mine.  _

 

_ In all the time I’ve known him, he's never looked at me like this.  _

__

_ “You, um...weh lost a babeh Stella.”  _

 

_ The world seemed to stop on its axis.  _

 

_ A baby? As in a human baby? One that was mine...one we had made. Together. Inside me. Part me, part Mi. A living, moving thing, with it’s own thoughts and feelings….only it wasn’t. I was too astonished to say anything but-  _

 

_ “What?”  _

 

_ “ I'm so sorry lovely.” He bit the inside of his trembling  lip, his eyes beginning to water, but he blinked the tears away before he thought I could see.  _

 

_ “Oh god...all the blood.” I sighed, realizing, horrified.  _

 

_ “They said everyfin’s fine with yeh physically. It was early on, so most of it passed on its own, the eh….it just hit yehr body pretty ‘ard is all. Gotta rest up before I can take ya home.”   _

 

_ He couldn’t say the words. I couldn’t even think them. I didn’t even know how to feel. The shock subsided though, and it hit me. My chest growing heavy with shame, sorrow...guilt.  _

 

_ Most of all, guilt.  _

 

_ “I'm so sorry.” I choked out, hand flying to my mouth at the sound of my own voice.  _

 

_ “What do you have to be sorry for?” Mi asked me, confused. His eyes growing softer, the light from the hospital monitors sparkling off his unshed tears.  _

 

_ “This has to be my fault, I shouldn’t have-“  _

 

_ “Don't.”  _

 

_ Mi’s voice was stern, short. I’d never heard him so adamant, determined for me to listen. He continued to speak, my voice lost in the intensity of the moment.  _

 

_ “You weren't even aware sweet’art. How could I blame ya?” His other hand came up to stroke my hair, his elegant fingers splaying across my cheek.  _

 

_ “Are you…” _

 

_  I wanted to ask. Wanted to know if he was as upset as I was. As hurt by this as me. Knowing this wasn’t planned made it even worse, it seemed. Knowing I could have been taking better care of myself, knowing I could have done something to save our baby’s life, it made my heart skip. My eyes strained to convey everything I wanted to say.  _

 

_ “Am I upset? No, no...I’m upset it happened to you dahrlin’. I’m more glad you’re okay, and it’s nothing like all the things they were warnin’ me it could be.” _

 

_  His voice trembled at the end, probably plagued with thoughts of the “what ifs”. But still, nothing seemed worse than what was happening now.  _

 

_ “It was ours…” I whispered, my gaze cast on our clasped hands, not able to look him in the face.  _

 

_ “I know luv. And I’m sorry for it. Sorry I...I wasn’t there for ya.”  _

 

_ “Don’t be ridiculous...I know it wasn’t planned...but...why?” I shook my head, exasperated. I wanted to know why it had to be this way. Why I had to lose something I never knew I had. Why am I being crushed beneath this...this grief.  _

__

_ “It joost... wasn’t time yet Stella, that’s all. If the universe wants teh surprise us again, then I say let’s ‘ave it.” His thumb came down across my lips, and caressed my chin, his loving touch, and his ever present smile, a balm to the stinging feeling in my chest.  _

 

_ Mi was trying so hard to be stronger than me. I knew in my heart that we weren’t ready for this. Wouldn’t have been ready to bring another life into the world. Our life together was a whirlwind of epic proportions. A musician, and a struggling actress, an American living in England, touring city to city, party to after- party...we were practically nomads, traveling back and forth between continents for family, for business, for pleasure. I could hardly keep the houseplants alive for Christ’s sake. A baby would have been wrong place, wrong time. Mi and I had discussed family, but it was always such a far away concept, something for when we were “older”, and nothing to commit to. Now I know, best laid plans mean absolutely nothing.  _

 

_ Still, Mi was here with me. Traveled across the country just to be at my bedside, even though he should be up to better things, with better company. Trying so hard to ease my pain; to make this seem normal. To make it sound like it wasn’t my fault. I know, if this had worked out differently, Mi would have been the best father our baby could ask for. I’ve always known. I don’t think I could wish, or pray for, dream, or conjure up a more perfect human being for the job.  _

 

_ “I love you.”  _

 

_ He knew what I meant.  _

 

_ I love your big heart. I love your sensitive soul. I love our telepathy, our emotional link. I love how you understand me, without the need for words. I love your eyes, and how I could look into them forever and never get lost.  _

 

_ “So much more, babe.” _

 

_ And I knew what he meant.  _

 

_ No matter how much you think you know, you’ll never know how much I love you. The lengths I’d go for your happiness are endless. No matter where I am, or with whom, know I’d rather be wherever you are. _

 

_ I slid my finger in between the buttons on his shirt, wiggling it to feel the smooth fabric between my fingers.  _

 

_ “You’re still in your party clothes.” I smirked, trying to hold back my tears, to no avail. I felt a single, stubborn drop, creeping down my cheek.  _

 

_ “Yeah, thought I’d look nice for yeh.” He smiled softly, wiping away my tears before they fell further.  _

 

_ “Does Al and everyone know.”  _

 

_ I felt a spark of panic in my chest at the thought of people knowing. I know Taylor would probably try and comfort me, in her overbearing sort of way. It usually makes me feel helpless, like a little kid whose scraped their knee. Taylor would be a great mom...I know she means well. I don’t even know how Al and the lads would react, probably feel sorry for me, pity me. And I didn’t want that, for me and especially not for Mi. Pauline would be heartbroken. She’d love nothing more than a grandchild of her own, and knowing she could have...it’d break her like it’s breaking me. My mother’s reaction would be the worst of all, and at this moment, I don’t even want to entertain the thought.  _

 

_ “They know you’re sick, in hospital. They know I needed to be ‘ere.”  _

 

_ “Is that all?”  _

 

_ “Yeah, love.”  _

 

_ “Thank you.” I sighed, relieved.  _

 

_ “It’s between you and I- what’s happened. It’s up to you weather ya wanna tell people or not, alreigh’? I'll go tell them you're awake. Gonna be okay.” He reassured me, a small smile turning at the corner of his lips.  _

 

_ Mi always knew what I needed. And I couldn’t give him anything in return, at least not now. That hurt me more than I could say.  _

 

_ “Okay.” _

 

_ “Yehr safe now dahrlin’.” He whispered, hand tenderly trailing down my cheek as he moved to stand.  _

 

_ “I know.” I nodded half-heartedly as he left.  _

 

_ The relief I felt knowing we were going home was insurmountable. That night we hopped in a taxi, Mi and I sitting as close as humanly possible without compromising the seatbelts. I leaned my back against his warm chest, his hands clasped around my front, pressing me close. I could smell his cologne as he pressed little kisses to my crown, the clean, earthy scent still lingering even after his travels, and I inhaled deep, wanting to save this moment of calm for myself. Save it before it was all shattered. Before I lost all sense of control.  _

 

_ As soon as he unlocked the door and stepped in, he halted. The evidence of my struggle was still everywhere. My purse contents were strewn across the floor by the kitchen table, lipsticks, receipts, loose change. The books on the shelf by the door had fallen out of the case, some open to various pages, staring back at me. And then I saw it again.  _

 

_ What was most likely giving Miles pause.  _

 

_ Just a tiny red stain.  _

 

_ “It’s okay Mi, I can get it.”  _

 

_ I went to move past him to the kitchen, but he stopped me, his long fingers wrapping around my wrist. His touch was gentle, but assertive. After a moment, his thumb rubbed against my wrist, his strokes in time with my pulse.  _

 

_ “It’s only gonna be worse in there.” He whispered. He looked at the floor still, my eyes wandering down the hall.  _

 

_ “I know...I’m sorry Mi. The beds probably ruined.” The guilt was streaming in again, but for an entirely different reason, my nose burning with the new onslaught of tears. This whole ordeal wasn’t just my burden, it was Mi’s now too. It made me feel helpless. I wanted to take this from him, the look in his eyes breaking my heart with every downward glance away from me.  _

 

_ He sighed then, pulling me by the wrist, into his arms. I embraced him gladly, surrendering everything in his embrace. I rubbed my nose into his coat, the material soft and luxurious against my skin. He rocked me there for a moment, back and forth to our secret, silent song. His nose burrowed into the hair gathered at my neck, inhaling my horrible hospital stained scent. I knew he was trying to tell me he was sad too. That deep seated kind of sorrow, that hits you out of nowhere. It’s surprising, and unpredictable. Out of place for the both of us.  _

 

_ I pulled back from him then, and peered up into his deep, rounded eyes.  _

 

_ “Shower?” I asked. I knew we probably both needed one, it’d been a long couple of days.  _

 

_ “Yeah, come ‘ead sweet girl.” _

 

_ He pulled me in again, his arms secure around me, the warmth of his kiss against my temple made me want to cry. I didn’t deserve how much he loved me. Not in this moment.  _

 

_ My naked reflection was stark in the bathroom mirror. I didn’t see myself staring back at me. The girl there looked haunted. Pale face and dark circles stood out like a ghost in the hall, hair frizzy and mussed. I could feel Mi undressing behind me, but I didn’t look; too busy assessing this foreign object in my place. With his clothes neatly thrown over the hamper in the corner, he found my gaze in the mirror. His gentle hands came down on my shoulders, sliding down to give my arms a comforting squeeze. He slowly nestled himself up against my back, and kissed my shoulder, the crook of my neck. His body was warm against mine, I could feel his lean muscles supporting my weak frame. I closed my eyes, the feel of his callused hands on my bare skin euphoric.  _

 

_ “Same Stella...I don’t see any difference. And even if I did, I’d still luv ya with all me ‘eart doll.” _

 

_ “I don’t feel the same.”  _

 

_ “I know sweet’art, but that’s okay.”  _

 

_ “It’s not Mi…”  _

 

_ This is the only time I wished he couldn’t read my mind. Knew exactly what I was thinking. I turned into him then, skin against skin, heartbeat to heartbeat. I wanted to disappear into him; wanted the warmth of his chest to dissolve the ache in my own.  _

 

_ The steam in the room enveloped my senses, as Mi held me under the stream of water. I felt the rivers of heat curving over our joined bodies, my silent tears mixing with the droplets trailing down my face. Mi washed my hair, tenderly caressing my scalp, his fingers running through my long, tangled mane as I pressed my face into his broad chest. I didn’t want to seem helpless, but when I went to wash my own body, he stopped me.  _

 

_ “I’ve got ya dahrlin’” He hummed, grabbing the loofa from my trembling hands. He was gentle, more so than he usually is. The silky bubbles cleansed me of the harsh hospital smell, replacing it with the familiar warm sandalwood. He was careful around any sensitive areas as he knelt down, looking to me for guidance along the way. Waiting for my permission to continue.  _

 

_ “I trust you.” I managed a weak chuckle. Ridiculous that he’d have to even think of asking. Every part of me was his.  _

 

_ He smiled at me then, and laughed a little himself, the sound made me weak in the knees.  _

 

_ “Joost tryin’ not teh ‘urt ya.”  _

 

_ “You could never.”  _

 

 

It hurt too much to let the secret fester in my chest. Every time I looked Alex in the eye and smiled,  knowing he was oblivious to the hurt. When I saw mothers with their babies at the market, or dads pushing toddlers on the swings, it stung. It stung even more seeing the same hurt in Mi’s eyes, and yet he still smiled, his hand squeezing mine, because he knew. 

 

The only person I could bring myself to tell was Pauline. I cried on her little sofa in her little house on The Wirral like I’d done it a million times as a little girl. She’d made us all tea, and offered me every biscuit she had, even though I couldn’t bring myself to eat anything. She apologized to me too many times, and embraced me like I was her own daughter. Told me it was okay to hurt this way, that it was as normal as could be. And it felt good. Knowing that someone was mothering me. Someone would be sorry that I’d lost something; care that her son was devastated, but was too chronically cheerful to admit it. I have never been more grateful for Miles in our entire relationship. He’d given me this sense of family, belonging. He surrounded me with people who loved me simply because I loved him. The love I felt on that couch, wrapped up in the magic warmth of his arms was unconditional. 

 

I tried not to think about it as I returned his soft gaze in the little screen. The camera did his eyes no justice, but I knew how they shone in the morning sun, happy or sad. 

 

“Alrigh’ doll?” He asked, his voice low, soft, just for me. 

 

I realized I’d been far away, off in my own memories. His soft tone pulled me from the past. 

 

“Yeah baby, just...off in space.” I smiled, shaking my head. 

 

“Dahrlin’... if I could take it all away, I would.” He whispered. 

 

I knew he meant the pain. The empty feeling that grew smaller everyday, but never really disappeared. The lost look in my eyes whenever it hit me. What he didn't know, was that he did take it all away. Sunshine radiates from his smile every morning to warm my soul.  The sound of his voice soothes me like no other, and could just as easily make me wanna dance the night away, twirling forever in his arms. His wild passion for life, for music, hell, for fashion- it all made me want to be passionate too. To exude the same enthusiasm and love for all things that loved me back. Mi made me want to be better, if not for my sake, then for his. I could only hope I evoked even a semblance of the joy he brought me with every touch, every kiss, every smile. 

 

“I know love. You already do.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for sticking with me and these love birds. Its all a lot lighter from here kids....no promises though. I love you all dearly for reading, and please let me know what you think. Drop me a line, as always.


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